


Forces

by Manhattanite



Series: Matchmaker [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 106
Words: 240,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manhattanite/pseuds/Manhattanite
Summary: Part II of my POI series.Sameen's past is about to come at her and bring with it, an unusual message for Root.  It seems she's been chosen - by something.  How will Sameen deal with her mother intruding in her life - one that she finally feels she's getting back on track - thanks to Root.  Oh, and her weekly therapy sessions with Dr. Campbell.





	1. Approaching System

In the relatively short time Sameen Shaw had been working for Root, she had come to expect the unexpected. She foolishly even tried to predict it sometimes, but she was starting to admit defeat. Root was like meteors coming at earth - there were educated guesses where she might hit, but it was not an exact science. So, when Root had Reese and Fusco kidnap her and bring her to Root’s private plane for a mini-vacation, Shaw wasn’t really surprised. And when Root volunteered them mid-vacation to negotiate a peace agreement among warring factions on the island where they were, Sameen just shook her head. No so much out of disbelief, but rather out of admiration. Root had an uncanny knack for coming up with the unusual.

* * *

Life was good for the couple. In part, because Sameen had never known anyone who went out of their way the way Root did to please her. And Root had a list of reasons why she was head over heels in love with the Persian firecracker. She had simply never encountered anyone like her in her life. No one came close … until the fateful day they returned from vacation.

A woman had visited BEAR that afternoon and when she couldn’t get what she wanted; she demanded to meet whoever was in charge. Janine, the HR associate just recently promoted to be Sameen Shaw’s private personal administrative assistant, knew she needed backup and called John.

After verifying that the woman was, in fact, who she said she was, John enlisted Lionel’s help. Her request was simple enough – she was there to see her daughter, and since she was expected to return later that day, she wanted the two men to convince Sameen to visit her that night in her hotel room. She gave them the impression time was of the essence.

This woman claimed to be Sameen’s mother – a person who neither John nor Fusco seemed to know anything about. Sameen had not only been tightlipped – as she was on most of her personal life – she had managed to have the woman erased from her files – everywhere.

“We gotta tell Root,” Lionel said because he knew this was not a two man job. It was going to be more like a job for a small army with guns and tranquilizers. And backup. Oh, and Tasers.

“Yeah,” John said and it was the first time Lionel could remember any kind of anxious tone to the tall man’s voice. “We better.”

Silence befell the room as the two men looked at each other. “How are we going to do that?” Lionel asked, hoping his friend had that part thought out.

“We will … when they land …we can … ,” the usually smooth talker stammered.

“Yeah,” Lionel said, because he wasn’t sure either.

The two men stood there; their eyes darting back and forth, and both hoping the answer would magically pop into their heads. Lionel had solved murder cases with less mystery. “Did that woman …?”

“.....Remind me of Shaw?” John finished the question. “Yeah, sort of.”

Both men were immediately struck at the older woman’s exquisiteness. Flawless skin, high cheekbones, and piecing dark eyes lent to the woman’s natural beauty. But it wasn’t just that. She had a definite tone to her voice that reminded both of them of their friend.

“Like when she’s yelling about something …,” Lionel decided.

“Or hungry …,” John concluded.

Whatever it was, both men agreed there was a similarity.

“But how can it ..?” Lionel asked and John decided they had the means and talent to find out about this woman. The question was – did they have enough time.

That private plane was landing at JFK Airport within an hour – and both men knew this was one mission they better be totally prepared for.

Unless of course, the woman wasn’t Sameen’s mother.

“Did she touch the water bottle?” Lionel asked, but John said no. She had worn gloves, which meant fingerprints would be hard to come by.

“Facial recognition!” John snapped his fingers, certain that the cameras in the building had caught her. The two of them returned to John’s office, enlisting no one’s help so as not to raise suspicion. Which was the first thing Lionel did when they ran into Iris in the hallway and he greeted her with an over the top salutation.

“HEY! WOW! Imagine running into _YOU_ … _HERE_!” Lionel said, so blatantly unnerved that John put his head into his hand and groaned.

“Yes, funny since… I work right down the hallway, but you … work several blocks away,” Iris said, totally aware of the ruse that wasn’t working.

John was beginning to think he should have picked Bear as his partner in this adventure. At least he knew how to keep his cool.

“Well, I will see _YOU_ later,” Lionel said, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he walked away, leaving a very confused Iris in the hallway. He followed John to the office and paced while John accessed elevator cameras and those in the hallway. “Do you think she suspects anything?” Lionel asked.

“Nah,” John answered because EVERYONE suspected them after Lionel’s verbal faux pas. John kept hitting keys, looking quizzically at the screen, and then hitting more keys.

“Do you know how to use that program?” Lionel finally asked.

John didn’t answer right away. He picked up the phone, dialed the security room and asked them to check the feeds. “Put it on my screen,” he instructed them so that he could show Lionel. He slowly turned to screen so his impatient friend could see for himself.

“What is that?” Lionel asked as he looked at the eight square boxes; each displaying a different part of the building where Azar Monir had to have passed to come into the building.

She was in none of them.

“The feeds have been looped,” John said – in total amazement. Only someone who was very computer literate could do that and even then, they had to be clever and devious. “It’s not good.”

“I’m starting to think maybe she’s Root’s mother,” Lionel said, his stomach started to get upset over this mess.

John turned and just stared at Lionel; his look speaking volumes.

“What?” the hungry detective asked defensively. “Would anything surprise you?”

John had to admit – it was a valid question.

* * *

As her plane circled above the airport, Root wanted to savor every last minute she had alone with Shaw. Not that they wouldn’t have their quiet time at home, but this vacation was the first time she could honestly say she saw Sameen relax. There were other small changes, too. Sameen not only seemed less tense, but she laughed more. Even after the whole peace agreement among the jungle warlords, Sameen found the humor in it. “When you handed the remote to them …,” Sameen laughed, “…and they started to argue over who would control it. I mean, it’s a universal phenomenon.”

Root loved to see Sameen laugh. Her face lit up when she did and Root was certain – it had been a long time since Sameen truly let herself enjoy something.

Sameen was very much aware of what was happening. You don’t build a wall that high, that thick, and not notice when there’s a crack in it. Sameen had guarded that wall for so long, she could barely remember life without it. If asked, Sameen would say she started to construct it around the time her mother walked out on them - when she was five or six. It was hard enough being different from the other blond haired, blue eyed kids in her school. Then she was the kid whose mother disappeared. By the time her father died in the accident. Sameen was pretty much a master wall builder. She shut down that day of the accident; never to reappear. Until Root.

There was something about Root – her refusal to be intimidated by Sameen’s threats; her unwavering attention and devotion; and a kindness Sameen had never known. Root was the dangerous combination of annoying as hell and unrelenting that Sameen could never quite control. And in the process of confusing and upsetting her, Root snuck past the wall and touched her. It frightened the shit out of Sameen. She didn’t let _anyone_ back there – to touch that spot where she was the tenderest. But Root seemed to know exactly where she was and never pushed when she was there. She was gentle. It still unnerved Sameen when it happened, but she wasn’t freaking out as much. After all, you don’t take down a wall you took years to build – in months. Especially when the most cautious part of your brain screams not to let those cracks get any wider. “ _It’s a mistake_ ,” the voice shouted inside Sameen’s head … _every_ day.

* * *

“Isabelle is making you something special,” Root all but cooed in Sameen’s ear because she knew updates on the menu were akin to sweet nothings that Shaw loved.

“You don’t think you can entice me with food, do you?” Shaw attempted to tease back, but stopped short to hear what the menu actually was. “Okay, you can entice me – this once,” Sameen said, trying to maintain some dignity at how easily she was persuaded. “It’s like you think the way to my heart is through my stomach.”

“Oh, Sweetie …,” Root said, getting a very seductive tone to her voice and leaning in next to Shaw in the car that picked them up at the airport, “… I have found several ways to get to your heart, but I still prefer the direct route.” Root reached over and boldly slid her hand into Shaw’s low cut blouse to touch her left breast.

“ROOT!” Sameen said, enjoying the touch, but not the brashness of the move in front of people – in a car – in public.

Root withdrew her hand – slowly – and sat back as if she had been properly admonished. But she was all smiles.

* * *

Root had an equally challenging childhood; perhaps even more unstable than Sameen, who at least got a head start in a steady childhood. Of course, it was only five years of normal, but that was five more than Root ever had. But while Sameen sought solace in jobs that required discipline and no emotion and thrived on someone giving orders, Root went the opposite direction. She refused to comply with any rules; let out all her emotions instead of walling them up, and – perhaps because she knew she was smarter than most people, she took the world by the horns. And threw it.

While Shaw was making sure no one could get to her behind that wall she built, Root believed if she was erratic enough, no one could catch up. These two very different styles had crashed head on when they met. Most people wouldn’t have survived that collision.

* * *

“I just want to go to bed,” Sameen said, although her stomach disagreed.

“Okay by me,” Root chimed in, skipping over the part where Sameen was really tired. “But you might want to …,” she said, running her finger up Shaw’s toned arm, “….eat a little something to keep your strength up.”

Those corny lines never got old to Root – even when they were met with Sameen’s long sigh and eye roll.

* * *

  
In the elevator, Root looked at her phone and saw a text message that simply read: _4AF911_. Her whole demeanor changed. “Give me a minute to take care of something, will you?” she said when they entered the Penthouse. Root disappeared into the library so quickly, that Bear only had Sameen to greet. And greet he did.

“Bear, noooo,” Sameen pleaded when the dog charged at her, but she was too late. He was so excited to see her that he weaved in and out of her legs until she fell over. “Bear, please,” the woman pleaded, but he just slobbered her with wet kisses.

Then, like the kid who’s been at daycare all day, he remembered underneath being excited they were home – he was annoyed they left. He stopped and looked down at Shaw; easily associating the person to the dolls he had been given.

“Okay, that’s enough, Bear,” Shaw said in as stern a voice as one can when they love the animal who knocked them over. She started to stand up, thinking the greeting was over, when he changed his mind and grabbed her ankle. Hard.

“Oww!” Sameen yelped, surprised at how tight his grip was. “Let go of me,” she demanded, but he wasn’t listening. “I swear, if you don’t let go of me,” she threatened, trying to grab him. And then falling right back into their sibling like relationship, she threatened to tell on him.

“Oh, welcome back, Sameen,” Daan, Bear’s aide-de-camp for all intents and purpose, said.

He was also Bear’s trainer of sorts, so Sameen was a little annoyed when the man sat down on the bench in the entryway and didn’t offer his help. She shot him a loathsome look. “Do you not see this?” she asked, shaking her head and thrusting her hand towards her captured foot.

“Yes, I do,” Daan confirmed, giving her a chance to figure it out on her own.

“Well?” Sameen said, giving him a chance to do something about it.

“He’s upset you left. You need to let him work through that,” the man advised as he grabbed his coat, welcomed her back again and said he left a report for Root to read when she had time.

Sameen could not believe the man, who could speak to the dog in multiple languages, was not going to help. “I hope there’s something in that report that states you are the _worst_ trainer in the entire world!” she bellowed, displeasing both the man who waved goodbye and the dog who took umbrage to the notion he even needed training. In his mind, he was doing just fine and Daan was someone who liked to stop by. Shaw pulled her body over and threatened to find a gun, but this only made the dog laugh. Well, not _actually_ laugh, because dogs can’t laugh – everyone knows that … but she swore she heard him do something like that.

Root would have been out there mediating the scene as she had often done, but she was answering the emergency text. The BEAR code name for Sameen was _4AF_ and when John added the 911 digits, she knew it was serious.  He updated her as quickly as he could with what little they knew. He had checked the registry at the Waldorf Hotel and an Azar Monir was registered. Even though they could establish the woman’s name, there was nothing to tie her to Sameen. “I’ll be right out,” Root shouted to buy herself more time. She heard the commotion outside, but couldn’t help just yet. Root pressed John to call this woman and tell her no one was delivering anyone until they had more information. “We have no idea who this woman really is, John!” she scolded her former bodyguard.

“I AM GOING TO SHOOT YOUR DOG!” Shaw yelled … from the tiled floor of the entryway.

John apologized and said he would contact the woman and give her Root’s message.

“Give her my number. I am not even mentioning this to Sameen if she cannot provide proof,” Root said in a very unpleasant tone. “I better go. Text me if you have anything further.”

Root ended the call and looked around. She could not possible imagine who would do this or why they would. She had very little information about Sameen’s family other that what she hacked out of her personal files. It must be a scam, she decided.

Then she noticed the two homemade dolls on the floor.

“These are so cute!” Root said, her mind distracted for a moment. “Sameen, look at these,” she said, going to the door and stepping outside. “Oh ..,” she said when she noticed that one of them seem rather frayed at the ankle.

“ROOT! I am going to kill him,” came the threat when she turned the corner to see Sameen pinned on the floor; the large Belgian Shepherd holding her in place by her ankle.

“Ooh,” Root said, quickly putting the dolls behind her back. “I should have seen this coming.”


	2. Brewing Storm

Root was so open with Sameen all the time that it was very hard for her to keep anything a secret. She didn’t want to jump the gun on this, especially since her girlfriend was so good with them. She wanted confirmation about this stranger before she mentioned anything. Of course, that didn’t mean it wasn’t totally preoccupying her mind.

How do we know that?

Because instead of telling Bear to let Sameen go before he regretted it, she foolishly told Sameen to stop. Yes, that preoccupied.

“That’s it!” the shorter woman yelled and grabbed the poor dog by the neck. In two very quick moves, gentle at best, the dog found himself belly up on the floor. He was shocked, to say the least. “I will bite you the next time you do this, okay?” Sameen promised him out of total frustration.

Bear was out of options, so he used the last thing he had in his bag of tricks; he whimpered. Like a baby. Or … a puppy.

“Sameen?” Root pondered, only now actually looking at the scene where of course, Bear looked like the victim. “He’s probably mad at us for leaving him,” she said and then whispered, “Abandonment issues, remember?” The irony of that statement hit Root very much the way Shaw had just tossed the large dog. It was powerful.

Shaw let go of him immediately – half out of guilt, half because she felt foolish picking on a dog. “Did you not see ….look at my ankle!” she tried, but the dog was running to Root for consolation and affection. “I cannot believe I got played by a dog. This is so unfair,” she complained as she went into the kitchen where she expected a warmer greeting from Isabelle, the chef. Sameen heard Root talking to Bear in his native language of Dutch.

“That does _not_ sound like you’re punishing him,” Sameen called back from the kitchen where the wonderful aroma of Isabelle’s cooking was almost making her forget all about the obnoxious dog. “Chews my ankle and she slobbers all over him,” she managed to complain in the time it took her to get to the island where the Chef’s warm bread was waiting. The insulted party took a roll and devoured the warm, buttery dough and moaned her delight. “Oh my gawd.”

Isabelle had been in the wine room and never heard her favorite couple return home. “Sameen!” she said, rushing to welcome the woman back.

“O-kay,” Sameen said, knowing she had no choice in the hug that was coming. ‘ _What is it about everyone in this house that they have to touch_?’ – she wondered.

“How was the trip? Was it wonderful? I made your favorite,” she said and she opened the oven and the smell of roast beef whiffed through the air.

Picking Sameen’s favorite was like shooting fish in a barrel. Well, more like cows in a barrel, because as long as it was beef, it was her favorite.

Root took her time explaining to Bear what was going on. She affirmed that she understood that he was upset with them for not taking him, but she asked him politely to take it easy on Sameen. They had a – situation – and she needed him to be on his best behavior. He listened attentively, barking his commitment to do so. “Now, go apologize,” Root said and he understood that in any language.

“There you are! Oh, he has missed you,” Isabelle said when Root came into the kitchen. “Aww, just look at him,” she noted as the dog crept over to where Sameen was sitting and put his paw on her lap.

“He’s sorry,” Root interpreted.

“Thehellheis,” Shaw said, her mouth full of the second – or was it the third – roll.  
The canine sat there, making the saddest face he knew how to make. He knew to strike when Shaw had her mouth full and Root was looking at him. He let out a long whine.

Sameen looked down at him, her hand at her mouth with the next roll, and then at Root - whose pronounced expression simply said – please. “Ohh, okay,” Sameen said and Bear immediately jumped up and put his front paws in her lap. “Oh man,” she groaned, but was hugging the dog anyway.

“I thought maybe wine?” Isabelle suggested and was surprised when it was Root who agreed so readily. “This will enhance the flavor,” the chef suggested, unsure if Sameen ever ate slowly enough to enjoy the taste.

“Aren’t you surprised that Reese or Fusco haven’t been _blowing_ up our phones?” Shaw asked when Bear left her alone. She looked at her phone, surprised that there weren’t a ton of messages.

“What?” Root said quickly, not sure if she should lie or deny. “Wouldn’t you rather a beer?” she asked, jumping up and retrieving a cold bottle of Shaw’s favorite ale.

“Oh, sure,” Sameen said and took the drink. “I thought for sure those two would be totally bored without us. I guess having girlfriends is making them grow up,” Shaw mused as she took credit for their relationships. “I really am a great matchmaker,” she boasted.

“Holy crap,” Root said and Sameen and Isabelle both looked at her as she stared at the phone in her lap.

“You sound like Fusco,” Shaw said, as Isabelle started to serve them dinner.

Root tried to recoup quickly as she plastered on a smile and shoved a piece of meat into her mouth. “This is good,” she said, even though she hadn’t tasted it yet. Her mind was so focused on what she just saw, that there was no juice left for her taste buds.

“Are … you … okay?” Sameen finally asked because it was obvious that Root was shoveling food in her mouth. She never ate like that. She usually just sat and watched Sameen eat like that.

“What?” Root asked again. “Sure. Just work. I don’t know how Harold manages without me sometimes. I think if I ever leave, I’ll just have to have my consciousness uploaded to the machines so I can still tell him what to do. You know – someday,” she blathered on.

Now, both Shaw and Isabelle stared at her.

“I have to call him,” Root said, trying to sound impatient, something she rarely was with Harold.

The two women watched as she walked out of the kitchen quickly.

“Jet lag?” Shaw suggested when the Chef looked at her for an explanation.

* * *

Root knew the food would keep her girlfriend occupied until her Spidey senses kicked in and then she’d be all over her. An act – under most circumstances, Root welcomed. Right now though, she had to get to the library and lock the door. She got inside, and let out a breath and looked down at her phone.

The message was curt – “Will this _do_ , Ms. Groves?” Root brought the phone up closer to her to stare at the picture that accompanied the text. It was a photo of a dark haired woman, holding a young girl’s hand. “No, no …,” Root said as her brain told her there was an amazing resemblance to Sameen. The little girl was smiling and Root traced that tiny smile with her finger. It had been the impromptu vacation where she saw Sameen with that smile. Root wiped a tear away from her eye and shook her head. This was no time for sentiment even if her heart was breaking at the thought that this was indeed, Sameen. This was a time for action.

She sent the picture to John with instructions to use the facial recognition program. She paced as she waited and when her phone dinged – he said the program confirmed that there was a high probability that the child was Sameen Shaw.

“I’ll take it from here,” Root said and could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she called the woman.

“This is Samantha Groves,” she said in a very assertive tone.

“I know who _you_ are, Ms. Groves. I imagine the issue here is that you want to know _who_ I am. I expected that the two gentlemen would not simply bring Sameen to me. I am not surprised by your call. So, the question is – can _you_ bring my daughter to me?”

Root didn’t like the tone of the woman. It wasn’t because she sounded brusque, but rather because she sounded so sure that she would see Sameen.

“Look, I don’t know who the hell you are, but I am not bringing Sameen anywhere until I know what your game is,” Root countered. Everything was a game – Root thought.

“No game, Ms. Groves. I have a limited amount of time,” the perfectly healthy sounding woman said. “And I want to see Sameen. But ….,” she said and Root could feel the smirk through the phone, “…we both know Sameen will not go anywhere unless she wants to. Unless, of course, you were to... Taser, drug, or zip tie her.” The last part was definitely said to make sure Root knew she wasn’t dealing with someone who just dropped into town for a visit.

“Why haven’t you contacted her yourself?” Root said as she processed the information.

Root was aware of the silence that now filled the space between them on the phone as the sharp tongued woman hesitated. That, Root knew, being a sharp tongued woman herself, meant something.

“I know …,” the woman began and cleared her throat, “…she will need time to deal with this. I want her with people who care about her when she does.”

Root was cognizant of the change in the woman’s voice that went from pointed to one of concern. But that didn’t mean she trusted it. “I will speak to her,” Root said – thinking she had no other choice right now. Anyone who could loop a security camera and knew the details this woman seemed to know could easily reach Sameen.

“Good,” the older woman said, the definite tone back in her voice.

“But ..,” Root said, not letting her go, “… you should know that if you do anything to hurt her, I will kill you.”

Root was able to financially ruin anyone who had hurt her growing up because she believed in retribution, but she never physically harmed anyone. Unless they were armed, of course.  She knew real damage could be done in the wake of her technology assaults and it was good enough. That was before Sameen. She had to tell Shaw what was going on – and let her decide what to do. But if this woman was playing Shaw, or turned out to be who she claimed to be and upset Sameen in the process, Root felt certain she could choke the woman to death.

“ _This_ is exactly why I came to you,” the woman answered and disconnected the call.

Root looked at her phone. The woman hadn’t come to her – she went to BEAR first. She must have already known Sameen was on vacation. Going there first was no accident; it set this in motion. It involved the people who cared the most for Sameen.

* * *

At the very same moment Bear whined his anxiety that Root was not back, Shaw got off the stool seat and went to find her. “Root?” she called out and saw the library door closed and knocked. “You okay?’ she called out expecting Root to open the door and exclaim how Harry needed help with something.

The door did open, but instead – Root said – “Sameen, we need to talk.”


	3. Confluence of Events

Sameen didn’t pick up on the serious tone in Root’s voice, so she entered with her defense ready for what she thought might be bothering her. “Okay, look,” she said closing the door so a certain sensitive mammal wouldn’t overhear, “…I wouldn’t actually bite him,” she said and then quickly added ... “...Hard,” as she rolled her eyes thinking about it.

“Sameen, sit down,” Root said and now Shaw thought this whole innocent dog act was getting out of hand. She looked at Root and wondered why she was taking this so seriously. Maybe the dog did something when she was in the kitchen.

“Okay, but I am _not_ apologizing to him for …you know… flipping him. He had that coming. Wait, I’m not in the doghouse am I? Because knowing that animal, it’s probably his own penthouse,” Sameen asked, slapping her knee and cracking up at her own joke.

“Sweetie,” Root said smiling the way one does when your significant other is not on the same page as you are, but you need them to be. “….You’ve been more than patient with Bear,” Root noted as she sat in a chair right across from Shaw and took her hands.

It was the first time Sameen realized how somber she was and knew it wasn’t about the dog. “Are you okay?” she immediately asked, sitting up straight in the chair.  
Root read the concern in those dark eyes immediately and squeezed her hands and assured her she was fine. “Sameen, a woman came to BEAR today while we were flying home. She claimed to know you,” Root laid out.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, unable to imagine who would know her and find her place of employment. She was in the news since being with the famous CEO, though. Maybe a neighbor or her landlord; annoyed that she hadn’t been back at her apartment. But Root’s tone didn’t match those possible scenarios.

“She claims …,” Root said slowly. “…to be your mother.”

Root waited while Sameen’s frown told her she was thinking it over. Then, surprisingly, Sameen started to laugh. “Did she say I won the lottery, too?” Sameen chuckled. “Oh, Janine must have loved that!”

“Sweetie, when we first met, you told me that your parents died young. Is that ….?” Root asked, but before she could finish, Shaw pulled her in closer.

“This has _nothing_ to do with that,” Shaw said clearly, but looking into Root’s eyes made this a lot tougher for her. She looked away and said. “She … left … when I was five. Walked out; we never heard from her again. So, you see, it can’t be her. This has got to be something else.”

Root could see that of course Sameen would think this was someone else. She pressed her phone and slowly showed her the picture.

Sameen’s response was immediate. She pulled her hand out of Root’s and pushed back. “Where did you get that?” she demanded to know, her tone deep.

“She sent it to my phone,” Root said, trying to explain.

“Where the _hell_ did she get it?” Who is _she_?” Sameen barked, her hands gripping the sides of the chair now.

“She says her name is _Azar Morin_ ,” Root said and the name hit Sameen like a slap in the face. No one should have known that name.

“Show me what she looks like,” Sameen growled, her entire body language changing.

Root sat back a little in her chair. “We don’t have a picture. She …someone… did something to the cameras at BEAR and her image was never caught.”

Sameen looked hard at Root as her mind raced to come up with the solution to this problem. “What kind of lame ass security system do you have that someone can enter the premises without being detected?” The question was valid; the tone was harsh.

“Your point is well taken,” Root said, trying to adjust to the changes she saw happening.

“Tell me what you know,” Shaw demanded like she was just called into a military briefing. In fact, that was exactly how Sameen’s brain was thinking.

“She came into the building this afternoon, looking for you. Janine notified Reese who met with her along with Detective Fusco,” Root relayed the events.

“Reese! Fusco?” Sameen asked as if Root had just told her the Keystone Cops handled the case.

“She asked if they could deliver you to her,” was how Root put it, but the word sent Sameen over the edge and she flew up from the chair and knocked it over.

“ _Deliver_ me? Where is this woman?” she asked, ready to confront the person who would even suggest she could be delivered.

“Sameen, do you have any idea who would want to do this … someone from your past?” Root asked, wanting to get as much info as she could before Sameen took off – which she knew was going to be any second now.

It was only because Root asked the question that Shaw even stopped to consider it. Sure, she had worked with crazy people, but she didn’t leave too many loose ends when she left the service. When she was done, she was done. No open cases where people might be looking for her. She would be barely traceable, she thought. Then, she remembered how Root had hacked right into her personnel files.

“No one that comes to mind,” Shaw answered. “Now, where is she?”

“She’s at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel,” Root said and then watched as Sameen flew to the door and opened it to leave. “SAMEEN!” she called after her and followed.

Sameen was in the hallway, grabbing her jacket and pressing the button repeatedly for the elevator. Then she remembered something; something that a few weeks before she would have never forgotten; her gun. She turned quickly past Root who called her name repeatedly to no avail.

“Sameen, please, let’s think this through ….,” Root said, putting on her leather jacket to go with her now armed girlfriend.

“You’re not going,” Sameen said, punching the elevator button now with the side of her fist.

“What do you mean? Of course, I am,” Root declared, pushing the hurt aside for the moment because she could see how upset her girlfriend was.

“Whoever this is, I’m taking care of it and I don’t need anyone there. I don’t want you … you don’t need to be there,” Sameen said and what she meant was – she didn’t want Root inhibiting the part of her that would shoot and then ask questions.

“I .. am … going with you,” Root affirmed, her arms crossed. She rarely needed to show her stubborn nature because Sameen usually listened to reason. Usually.

Sameen stared hard at Root - giving her the look that always made people back off, or cry, or shake in their boots. Root just gave her a tilt of the head and half smile conveying her sincerest apology, but she wasn’t changing her mind.

Then, the reason for the elevator was delayed appeared - when the door opened up and Shaw ran right into Reese and Fusco.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Shaw asked curtly.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Fusco said and looked at Root. The woman’s expression conveyed that Shaw knew.

John was the one who suggested they go to see if they could help after imagining what he would do if he found out the same news. He instinctively knew that Shaw would shut down, arm up, and go after the woman.

“And you …,” Shaw turned to Reese and yelled at him - “What kind of lame ass security system do you have that can get rigged by a middle aged woman?”

Reese was prepared for the anger. Shaw was in mission mode and there was no doubt, in her mind anyway, that she was in charge. Sameen felt more like she had gum stuck to her shoe and was trying to get it off so it wouldn’t impede her racing to kick ass.

What Reese saw, and what Root knew in her heart, was that Shaw’s emotions were running wild and that was no way to set out of any undertaking.  This is why Fusco and Reese were still standing in her way.

“Get out of my way or I will shoot you and not in the kneecaps,” she threatened.

“We’re going with you,” Reese answered in practically a hushed tone. The more serious he was, the lower his voice got.

“What he said,” Fusco answered when Shaw’s head snapped around to look at him. He knew better than to think this wouldn’t be painful, but he believed it was best for his friend.

“Fine!” Sameen said disgusted that no one was listening. “Not cool,” she said to the three of them as they went into the elevator with her. “Not cool at all.”

Root turned to the men and raised an eyebrow. So far, so good it said.

* * *

Reese and Fusco understood going with Sameen was like handling nitroglycerin. They knew it was a matter of time before it exploded – and just hoped they weren’t holding it when it went off. Root, on the other hand, was standing close to Sameen; clearly because she was ready to go with the explosion.

“Would it be crazy of me to suggest we have some sort of a plan?” Fusco ask the elevator descended.

“Yeah, stay the hell out of my way and you won’t get hurt,” Sameen answered quickly.

“Shaw, I think we ought to parse out what we know. This woman, whoever she is, was smart enough to rig our security system, yet she gave us her name and where she was staying. We don’t know what we’re walking into,” Reese pointed out calmly.

“We’re walking into some sick person’s idea of a joke,” Shaw said, touching the Glock she shoved in her jacket.

“She knew … certain things,” Root said, sorry there was an audience to hear that.

“What kind of things?” Shaw wanted to know.

Now, three pairs of eyes looked at the taller woman. “She knew … how I convinced you to come to Africa,” Root said, worried that even she didn’t know how the woman knew that.

“You mean the tazing and zip ties?” Fusco asked and Shaw vaguely remembered complaining to him about it.

“Yes,” Root confirmed.

“Have you been talking to anyone?” Shaw asked, moving up into Fusco’s face.

For a man who outweighed her and was armed, he still found her scary. “No!” he said defensively. “Not even …,” and he stopped. “Anyone.”

While Fusco was defending himself, Reese was wondering what kind of person would know that personal information. It’s one thing to be technically skilled to loop security systems; it’s another to have recent private information. He knew that everyone who worked with Root was thoroughly checked out. Didn’t mean there couldn’t be a leak, but still, this woman came right to them.

“She’s been following you,” the former military man concluded openly.

Reese meant it as a possible explanation as to how the stranger would know more intimate details like how Root had gotten Shaw to accompany her to Africa. Shaw took it as confirmation that she had been unknowingly – made.

“Do you see how sloppy I’ve become?” Shaw asked Root, meaning if she had been on her guard, no one could have gotten away with this.

There was no right answer to that question, and Root was smart enough to know that. So, she said nothing, her expression the right balance of ‘ _I understand, but don’t agree_ ’ and ‘ _Whatever you say, sweetie_.’  While most people were lucky if their facial expressions conveyed one message, Root was able to say so much more with hers. It was as if her eyebrows, her eyes and lips all decided to give independent, but cohesive parts of one larger message.

“Yeah,” Shaw responded, unsure of this part of Root’s body language she was agreeing to. “Well, now it’s over.”

* * *

Azar Monir sat in her suite at the luxurious hotel… waiting. She reached for her glass of champagne as she glanced at her watch. She could only imagine the fight that must be going on inside Sameen’s head. She drained the glass slowly of its contents and placed it down on the silver tray. Then, she stood up and walked in front of the mirror. She reapplied her lipstick, straightened out her dress, and picked up the phone. She informed the front desk that she was expecting guests and to send them up … immediately.

Then, she opened the drawer in the table and slowly ran her hand over her gun.

She was really hoping she wouldn’t need to use it.


	4. Dangerous Liaisons

“Look, maybe this is …,” Fusco tried to hypothesize as they rode down in the elevator.

Reese tried to pick up the ball with, “…someone who doesn’t want anyone to really know who they are.”

“Yeah, well, they’re going to be sorry they just didn’t send me a tweet,” Shaw said, checking her gun to make sure the damn thing was loaded. Since staying at Root’s, she was concerned her weapons might have magically changed into water guns.

* * *

When they arrived downstairs, Fusco turned to Shaw. “You’re coming with us,” his said, eyebrow raised and his hand on her arm. He could feel the tenseness in it. He figured Reese would at the very least, drag his body to the ER if she exploded on him.

“We won’t get a cab at this hour,” Root noted as if giving the traffic report. Sameen grunted, but went with them.

The foursome piled into the car and dead silence rode with them as they made their way over to the hotel. Fusco drove quickly, but not so fast that he didn’t give his friend time to think over what she wanted to do.

The fight going on inside Shaw’s head right now was that this was happening because she got soft. The amazing thing about Root was that she could hear that struggle going on as if it were being broadcasted through Sameen’s ears. She could tell by the furrow of Sameen’s brow and the way her jaw was tightening that it was building. She reached over and put her hand on Sameen’s leg, avoiding the stare that came back at her. Root knew Sameen was thinking she had to go in there alone because if she brought people in that she cared about, she could get sloppy. As usual, Shaw was fighting herself as much as she was fighting the situation.

* * *

When they pulled up outside the hotel and got out, Root was next to Shaw.  “Look at me,” Root said, pulling Sameen back a second which was like touching the outside of a tornado. If it didn’t kill you, were such a thing possible, it certainly would take the skin off your fingers. Sameen did look at Root, partly because she wanted to ask her if she were crazy for trying to slow her down. “You’re walking into this not knowing what’s going on, but you’re not walking in there alone. I’m going in there with you or no one goes in.” Then she let go of her arm and crossed hers. For the first time that she could remember, Sameen swore Root’s expression was ‘ _don’t even think of fucking with me_.’

_Root had read Sameen's files.  Shaw received commendations when she was in the marines, but the thing that held her back from higher promotions was her lone wolf syndrome, as her commanding officers labeled it. She could follow orders and carry out dangerous missions, but she worked best when she was alone. It took Cole months before she would finally agree to allow a partner to go with her, and that was only because the CIA told her she wouldn’t get any more missions unless she agreed. She barely tolerated him._

Sameen looked at Root and then back at Fusco and Reese who were echoing the same message. She had no time to argue. “You are all pains in the ass; I want you to know that,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Do not let her out of your sight,” Reese said as Shaw walked to the desk. He figured one option was Shaw making a run for it or locking them out somewhere.

“You know,” Fusco said in the short time Sameen was not with them. “Have either of you considered that if this woman really is her mother, she could be just as dangerous?” He said it with the best of intentions, but even Reese stared at him. “I got a kid who’s expecting me home later.”

If Sameen approached the front desk in a rough manner, she all but stamped her feet when she returned. “Sweetie?” Root said when she got closer.

Sameen had a piece of paper in her hand and pushed it out in front of her. “She’s expecting …us!” Sameen said. “Not just me. She knows you’re all here. How is that even possible?”

Root considered that the person was playing head games with Sameen. It was a way to dominate the situation and take control. A text on Root’s phone before from Martine indicated that Root’s software that could cut through firewalls the way hot knives cut through butter, did not turn anything up in government files on the woman waiting for them.

* * *

Sameen flew off the elevator when it reached the floor. Root took only a second to turn to Reese and put out her opened palm. He sighed, but handed her his second gun, which she shoved in the back of her belt.

“They said she was expecting us,” Sameen stammered on the walk down the long hallway to the designated suite. “I asked – who is she expecting? And do you know what he said? He listed each one of our names. Each one!” Sameen stopped and turned back to make sure they heard her.

“Maybelline, you want we should have plan before going in?” Fusco asked, aware that their leader was flying off the handle.

The combination of someone digging up old memories for Sameen and being so smug that she knew her friends would come with her was too much for Shaw. She was furious and running on fumes. “I am going to hurt her,” is what she said her plan was.

“That went well,” John more or less whispered to Fusco as they followed Shaw to the door.

Root stood with Sameen when she banged on the door continuously. It took a few seconds, but suddenly they heard the door being opened. A maid bowed slightly to them and opened the door wide for them to enter.

Root, Reese and Fusco all took their hands off their guns. Shaw entered quickly and surveyed the room to see where this woman was.

“Please,” the maid said and indicated that the foursome should come into the waiting area.

“Where is she?” Shaw asked, but the woman pointed to the living room where they should go.

“Please,” she repeated.

“So, we don’t know what we’re walking into, but we’re going in deeper?” the good detective asked himself out loud.

Sameen stood there waiting after the maid told her … in Farsi …that their guest would be out in a minute.

“Looks like she’s living here,” Reese said as he looked around and noticed some personal affects.

Root picked up a frame that was on the end table. It was the picture that the woman had sent to her on her phone. Sameen saw what was in Root’s hand and grabbed it. Her breathing quickened as she looked down at the original. Then, with one quick jerk of her wrist, she threw it with force across the room into the fireplace that was unlit.

Root had the strangest sensation of something touching her arm, even though it was covered by her jacket. She pushed away at the imaginary irritant with her hand, the way one does when they’re caught in a spider’s web. It gave her shivers to think how metaphorical it was. Here they stood in the hotel suite of a stranger – all of them armed – and yet, she worried that would not be what they needed. In fact, she worried if it was already too late.

The maid reappeared with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Sameen looked at her like she was insane. “We’re not here for the food. I want to see the woman who calls herself Azar Monir,” Shaw demanded.

“Please,” the woman smiled and Shaw wondered if she was putting on an act.

The aroma of the food waffled through the air directly to Fusco, who was starving. “Wow, what are these?” he asked like they were at a restaurant waiting for friends.

The woman smiled and answered; “Sabzi Kuku with dried herbs. Very good,” she smiled and held the tray up in front of him.

“Well, okay …,” Fusco said and took one and shoved it in his mouth. He was hungrier than he thought. “Try one,” he said to Reese who smiled, and waved him off. He shrugged his shoulders at Reese’s refusal and shoved another one in. “Really not bad.”

“Get her,” Shaw growled and the woman bowed her head and retreated.

* * *

“These are … what are these?” he asked, looking at Sameen who gritted her teeth at him. Truth be told, she knew exactly what they were because it was one of the dishes her mother used to make with her.

“Nice try,” Sameen said of how clever the woman must have thought she was to reproduce a childhood dish.

Within seconds, the door to the bedroom opened and the woman appeared. Time slowed down as Sameen’s heart rate sped up and she looked at her. The dark haired, dark eyed woman was impeccably dressed in a black dress and high heeled shoes.

Root stared at the woman, taken aback by the glaring similarity. In fact, she could have been Sameen’s older sister because age had been kind to this woman.

This was the second time Fusco and Reese saw the woman and it confirmed that she was as good looking as they both initially thought. Fusco was sorry he hadn’t thought to give the NYPD sketch artist a call as it might have saved his friend the shocked look on her face.

Root was next to Sameen, her own hand behind her back on her gun.

The woman knew there were four people in the room, but her line of site was on Sameen. She put her hands out in front of her and said, “Sameen, Azizam,” - using a familiar warm term of endearment. Her voice cut through Sameen’s heart.

What happened next happened so quickly, that no one could have anticipated it. Even Root was surprised at how fast Shaw grabbed the woman and pushed her down in a chair and aimed a gun at her forehead. Reese and Fusco were going to intervene, but Root put her arm out to hold them off. She wasn’t exactly certain yet the woman didn’t deserve the harsh greeting.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end this right now,” Sameen growled, leaning down into the woman’s face; the woman she knew in her heart was, in fact, her flesh and blood.

Root touched Sameen and could feel her body’s tremble. The woman in the chair looked neither surprised nor alarmed. This told Root that their hostess had anticipated that the woman she invited here to tell her the news was capable of this action. Anyone who thought this was possible, and who could loop security systems and know intimate details, also would have planned for this. Root searched the room for what this woman’s counter move would be.

Then, Root’s eyes fell on the tray of food … just as Azar said;

“Well, for one, the food your detective friend just ate is poisoned, and if you kill me, you won’t get the antidote.”


	5. Elephant in the Room

In unison, the four friends yelled, “You _what_?” after hearing the reason Azar gave to Sameen. Shaw didn’t move; Root looked at Fusco who was spitting out the half remaining appetizer in his mouth, and Reese started to pull open the detective’s tie when he started to cough and turn red.

“You… _poisoned_ him?” Sameen asked and pushed the nozzle of the gun into the woman’s forehead harder.

“I am sorry, Detective, but your reputation for food preceded you,” Azar yelled over to Lionel, almost like it was a real apology.

Shaw felt terribly torn between wanting to smack the hell out of this woman that was seriously toying with her and giving in. But when she heard Fusco coughing, she pushed the woman back and turned to see if he was okay.

Within seconds, the maid appeared; wheeling in a container that she then opened. “Your guns?” Azar said as she rubbed her forehead where Shaw’s was just placed. As much as she knew about her four guests, she wasn’t certain what group action they might take.

Root looked at Sameen – waiting to take her cue. Shaw threw her gun in the box, Root did the same, and then Reese took Fusco’s and his and placed them in.

Root would learn something about her girlfriend during that tense time … she had terrible timing.

“Do you really think I won’t kill you with my bare hands?” Sameen said, hating that this woman was so calm as she sat in the chair.

“You have your father’s spirit,” the woman said, smiling, and it occurred to Root that this woman knew exactly where Sameen’s buttons were to press.

“Give it to me!” Shaw demanded as Fusco spit up whatever he could.

Azar stared at Sameen before nodding to the maid to hand over the bottle of clear liquid. Root grabbed it from her and gave it to Fusco as he collapsed back in a chair, out of breath. He took a long drink of it; as much of it as he could in one gulp. He sat there panting as Reese and Root watched to see if, in fact, it worked.

“Wait!” Sameen said and grabbed the bottle from Lionel’s hand before he drained the liquid out of it. She put it to her lips and then took a sip. It was – what she suspected.

“There was _no_ poison, was there?” Sameen said, turning to the woman.

Azar smiled at how quickly Sameen figured it out. “Just the power of suggestion, but you see the effect it had on all of you,” Azar pointed out and Root suddenly became very interested in why the woman was doing this. She was making a point – in an off-the-charts crazy kind of way.

“Why you…,” Shaw growled and lunged at her, but it was Root who held her back.

“Tell her why,” Root said, before releasing her.

Both women noticed how Azar didn’t flinch at Shaw’s move to hit her. She sat there as if she were waiting for it. Root knew this meant, unfortunately, she was not done with them. She had anticipated their moves.

* * *

“So, I’m okay? I don’t feel okay,” Lionel said in the background, gulping the rest of the water and grabbing at his throat.

Azar look up at Sameen and Root, but she spoke to the poor man she just scared. “I promise you, Detective Fusco, you are okay. It was the spices in the appetizers you ate. I would never do anything to a father.”

“Okay, that’s it. Stand up,” Shaw said to the woman as her breathing hastened and her face tensed up.

“Ms. Monir, what are you trying to do?” Root asked as her girlfriend got into what could only be described as a position of attack.

“Sameen…,” she began, but Shaw couldn’t stand to hear her name coming from this woman’s lips. She pulled away from Root roughly and with one hand on the each arm of the chair, she leaned into the woman … again.

“Don’t call me that. You do not get to call me that,” she said, the fury evident in her eyes. Sameen pushed off the chair, confused as to what to do next.

“Tell her before I don’t hold her back,” Root warned the woman. If it weren’t for the fact that Root thought she was going to tell Sameen something, she wouldn’t have been so kind.

“When your father brought me here, the U.S. was embroiled in the Iranian Hostage Crisis. Your father risked his life to bring me out of that country, but he had help. The people he worked for offered to help him,” Azar began and Root noticed that Sameen could hardly bear to hear this.

“Yes, yes, I know, he saved you. And how did you repay him?” Shaw barked as she looked back down at her mother. “You … left … us!”

“I ….,” Azar said hesitantly, and Root knew that meant she was going to say something personal. “Repaid him by giving him a child. But, we were indebted to those who helped us,” she added.

“What …what does that even mean?” Shaw said, now walking back and forth, trying to decide how much to listen to.

Root stood carefully near the woman, unsure if she would block Sameen, or get to Azar first. But first, they needed to hear what she had to say.

“The people … who helped your father, wished us to return the favor. They were government men who felt my background could be of a great resource to them,” the story unfolded.

“My father? Why would a government agency help him? Who were they?” Shaw demanded, trying to disassemble the woman’s tale.

“The CIA,” she answered and silence befell the four friends.

“Your father was CIA?” John asked, thinking it was possible that Shaw never told them. But Root knew, and as far as her break-in to Sameen’s personnel files taught her, that info was nowhere to be found.

“Are you saying the CIA _recruited_ you?” Shaw barked because this was getting to be too unbelievable.

“It was …,” Azar began again slowly, “… supposed to be a translation job. I did speak the language and not many people did. Your father and I discussed it and we agreed. I worked for them locally at first. Then, as the hostage crisis wore on, they asked that I perform additional duties,” she said and stopped.

“What kind of additional duties?” Sameen asked incredulously.

“I went undercover,” her mother said.

“Are you freaking telling me that my parents were CIA and I didn’t know it? I worked for them, but you probably already know that!” Sameen yelled.

Root was trying to solve this puzzle from the pieces of information that Azar gave them. “Did they recruit you?” Root asked Sameen who was annoyed that the attention was back on her.

But Azar knew where Root was going with this. “You are as clever as they say, Ms. Groves,” she said pleasantly.

Shaw lost it. Her mother was just telling her that her parents were CIA agents and she was being _nice_ to her girlfriend, after almost, but not quite, poisoning her friend. “That’s it,” Sameen declared and she leaned down and grabbed the woman by the lapels of her very expensive dress. “Tell me… ,” but she couldn’t finish. She wanted the short version of the stuff she didn’t want to hear in the first place. She let go of the woman and turned away.

“I think you should give Sameen the bullet points,” Root said seeing that the tipping point was near.

“The more I did for them, the more involved I got. I saw that it wasn’t just the U.S. I was helping, but the innocent people caught up in the crisis over there. Then, this rather odd thing happened,” she said as if everything up to that point was status quo. “The ..other …side recruited me. They thought I could infiltrate the American offensive because I could speak the language.”

“You were a double agent?” Reese asked, imagining how dangerous that was for anyone, let alone a woman.

Sameen’s true nature shone through when she thought her mother was saying she spied against the country. “First, I’m going to snap your maid’s neck, and then I’m going to get my gun and shoot you for treason.”

Maybe because Root was a little calmer, she could piece things together. “You told them, didn’t you?” she asked the older woman.

“Yes,” she said calmly. “I did my job and came home. Your father and I started our lives together and for five years, we were blissfully happy. You remember that, don’t ….?” She started to ask, but Sameen’s face told her not to.

“This is one _crazy_ family story,” Fusco said, relieved now that he wasn’t poisoned.

“What happened?” Root asked because she knew Sameen couldn’t.

“A private security firm working with the US government reached out to us. They had a job to do over there, and asked if I was interested. They offered us a lot of money for what should have been an easy job. But, nothing is easy, is it? Your father and I discussed it. We decided that I would do this one contract, so that we could finally provide you with a good life. I succeeded in the mission, but made enemies in the process. Enemies that followed me back here. Of course, the company disavowed any knowledge of my existence and could not help me. I was back here, but I was being watched. My actions had cost my adversaries a great deal, and they were hell bent on repaying me. They told me that I had stolen the very heart of their ‘device’, they called it. So, they in turn, were going to steal mine. Each time I tried to reach out to your father, to come home, they were waiting. Finally, your father had no choice, but to assume I had been killed. He tried to get information on me, but no one could help,” she said and Root noticed the story seemed to be getting harder for her to tell.

Azar took a deep breath to finish. “I tested the waters every few weeks, then months and finally, years. In a moment of weakness, when I couldn’t stand it anymore, I called your father on the phone. I thought I had devised a way to lose them. I had to see you. I had to see him,” she said and couldn’t look at her daughter now. “The night he was coming to see me, was the night of the accident. They acted on their warning, Sameen,” Azar said.

Root could hear Sameen’s breathing as her chest expanded and collapsed rapidly.

“Who are they? I will get them,” Sameen said behind gritted teeth.

"They’re dead …now,” Azar said confidently. “I realized that what I stole must have been very important to them, so I kept a copy. The security group that hired me thought they got secret information on operatives within the U.S.; which they did. But there was more on that device. It took me years to figure it out, but when I realized what it was, I used it against them …and destroyed them,” Azar explained.

“So, you wrapped up your spy career and moved back home? And you wanted a family reunion?” Shaw said, arms crossed because she needed to hold herself from shaking.

Root looked around at the room and realized that Azar was not a guest of the hotel, she was living there. “How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Oh, a while now,” Azar smiled that Root was getting it.

Reese was sitting with Fusco and had been listening to all of this. Her story sounded plausible, given the dark nature of espionage; but even he could tell there was more.

“What I discovered on their disks was the architecture for a computer program that could harness the very structure of a civilization’s hardware and be used against them,” Azar continued.

“So, my mother _was_ a spy, _left_ us for a mission, _stole_ something and then got herself _made_ when she came back, had to go _underground_ and when you came _out_ , they _killed_ my father. You went _back_ underground while I got _tossed_ around like a hockey puck. You missed the three decades of my life and now you’re back. Did I cover all the highlights?” Shaw spat.

Root turned back to Azar and wished that she could just say yes so Sameen could slow down and catch her breath. Instead, the woman stoked the fire by telling her daughter …

“Sameen, you must believe me when I say, I have not missed a moment. I was there for your high school graduation, your college graduation. I knew when you were in med school and when you joined the marines. I have been there.”

“Really? Because I don’t remember getting your card?” Shaw said sarcastically.

“No,” the older woman said sadly, “…but I was watching.”

Root was beginning to think that Azar did something with that information she found. And whatever it was she did, she used it to keep tabs on her daughter. “You … built a … machine,” Root said, putting the final pieces of the puzzle together. “You harnessed the hardware … to watch Sameen … to keep an eye on her.”

“Yes,” Azar said, smiling that finally her daughter knew someone who could appreciate the magnitude of what she possessed.

“You took … spying to a whole new level,” Root said.

“You .. were _spying_ on me?” Shaw said, because with each new detail, this story got worse for her.

“What do you really want from us?” Root asked, able to see that this wasn’t just about reuniting with her daughter.

“I want to recruit you,” Azar said calmly.

Root knew instinctively to grab Sameen, but it took Reese to physically pick her up and pull her away before she attacked the woman.


	6. Force of Habit

Root sized up their options quickly. So, given how well the parts of her face could convey more than one message at a time, she took advantage of that. A raised eyebrow to Reese told him to take Shaw out of the room, even though he was going to endure physical pain. One look at Fusco told him to put his big boy pants back on and get over the almost poisoning incident and help Reese. Then, she turned her attention back to the woman who had just toyed with her girlfriend.

Root meant to tell the woman that she thought it best that they leave and that she would talk to Sameen. She meant to say that she would let her know if Sameen wanted to keep the door opened that the woman just ripped off the hinges by inundating Sameen with so much information. She meant to … but she found that her hand beat her to it and she slapped the woman full across the face.

“She deserved better than this,” Root let the angry words fall off her lips, even while her heart was aching for what Sameen must be going through.

Azar’s hand flew to the sting on her face as she considered Root’s words. “Perhaps,” she said, but that wasn’t what Root wanted to hear.

“That’s my girlfriend you just pummeled with your information,” Root snarled, but in a low voice so Shaw wouldn’t hear. “I would strangle you right here, but I don’t want to take that pleasure away from Sameen.”

Holding her cheek, Azar smiled when she looked up at Root. “I am glad I got a chance to meet you, Ms. Groves.”

In the short time that Root had been with this woman, she had decided Azar was very methodical. She had practically planned for every move the foursome made. “What ..does that mean?” Root asked because she knew the timing of this meeting might be what she meant.

“Why do you think I waited until now?” the injured woman countered. “I could have contacted her before, but only now, does she have people who love her and will protect her. Even from herself.”

Root jerked her head at that statement and might have said more, but she heard the commotion going on behind her. Pointing her finger in the woman’s face, Root demanded: “Don’t contact her. She knows where you are now. “

“Of course,” the hostess said because she had gotten everything that she wanted out of this meeting. She stayed in her seat as Root joined the others.

* * *

“If you don’t put me down, Reese, I swear I am going to find you in your sleep and kill you. Then, I’m going to find Fusco. I’m not kidding, Reese!” Shaw shouted as John stood there, holding onto her as if he were holding his coat. He was calm and expressionless, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried.

Fusco tried to help, but Shaw was kicking so hard, he couldn’t get near enough to assist. He slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out the only thing he could think of. But Root caught sight of it.

“NO!” she yelled at him not to use the Taser.

“Sure, she can use it whenever she wants,” Lionel complained out of the side of his mouth to John.

“We better go,” Root said to them and they walked to the door.

The maid was there holding the box so they could retrieve their guns, which Root thought was very brave of Azar. But when she looked back, she was gone. The tattoo on the servant’s arm also told Root that she wasn’t just Azar’s maid.

* * *

John waited until he was outside and they were all armed again, before he put Shaw down. It was simply a matter of size, and it was the only time John felt it necessary to use his to prevent Shaw from doing something.

“I am going to kill her…,” Shaw said as soon as her feet hit the ground and went for her gun. She aimed it at the door and then realized Reese had taken the clip out of it.

“We need to talk… before you kill her,” Root said, letting the love of her life know that doing that was still on the table of options.

Someone else would have been telling Sameen how it was just too Freudian or Shakespearean to actually kill one’s mother. Root was simply pointing out that they needed to make sure it was the best option. It was the only way to get through to Shaw and the message was from the only person in the world she would listen to. And right now, she was slowly suggesting to Shaw that they could go home and process what the hell just happened.

Shaw looked at the door and at Root a couple of times. Fusco truly expected her to charge the door and bang until she was exhausted. Reese expected her to fight him for the clip of bullets. Only Root knew she would eventually listen to reason. Root’s reason. Shaw turned and walked back with Root because she knew she understood.

“Not cool!” Shaw said to both men who always bore the brunt of her frustration.

* * *

The four were silent in the elevator until Fusco couldn’t keep his thoughts in anymore. “Your mother’s got some set of kahunas.” Reese and Root uttered his name, their tones separated by three octaves. “What? All I’m saying is that …if that woman … is really her mother, she’s got brass …you know.” All three just turned and stared at Fusco, who seemed unfazed because he was telling the truth.

It took a while and they were exiting the elevator when Sameen cleared her throat and said – “She is my mother.” Then, she pushed ahead of them to leave the hotel.

“Now what?” Reese asked the woman who would know the best answer to that question.

Root watched as Sameen looked determined to get where she was going. “We … go with her.” The trio did just that as they caught up to Sameen who was practically pushing her way through the crowded street.

* * *

Root’s mind was racing with the laundry list of things she wanted to act on right then to flesh out Azar’s story. She could whip up a program that could track electric activity in the city’s infrastructure. She could also narrow down possible staff that Azar might have hired to help her build this… this…. ? She wasn’t sure what to call it. Was it a program or a machine? The possibilities flooded her brain, but she had to focus on Sameen. She didn’t want to overload her with the possible scenarios.

“You know where she’s going to go, right?” Fusco asked Reese as they walked a few steps behind their friends.

Of course Reese knew where Shaw would head because it’s exactly where he would go to forget everything that just happened. “Yeah,” he responded and looked around. He nodded to Fusco when he saw the nearest bar.

“I’ve been with her when she gets like this, you know, before Cocoa Puffs. It gets ugly,” Fusco said of the times he took his friend home from an all-night binge.

* * *

Catching up to Shaw, Root leaned in and asked – “Where are we going, Sweetie?” Of course the question indicated to Sameen she had a say. Shaw stopped in her tracks and looked at Root. “I …,” she emphasized, “…am going …,” and Sameen looked around for what she wanted. “In there. You can take Frick and Frack home.”

The voices of reason and otherwise were all talking inside Shaw’s head and she wanted to silence them with a sledge hammer. Her head was spinning, her heart was aching, and a voice was screaming at her for feeling …conflicted and confused. These were the equivalent of mortal sins to Shaw.

“Oh, no, no,” Root said, wanting to be extra gentle …and firm … at the same time. “Where _you_ go, _I_ go.”

Shaw just looked up at her, too drained to fight. “You are … such … a … You …are… so….,” she tried.

“I know,” Root said and then pointed out that whatever drink Sameen was going to order in the bar, she could get at home … but that didn’t go over well.

“Right, so that _stupid_ dog can _lecture_ me about something,” Sameen let out and grimaced that those words came out of her mouth. “Fine!” she finally yelled which was Shaw’s way of saying that she wanted Root to be with her, but asking would have been too hard right now.

Root already understood that, so she just let Sameen lead the way into the crowded bar. Fusco and Reese were following and when Root attempted to discourage them, she found them to be as stubborn as she had been with Shaw.

“Look, Captain Crunch,” Lionel started, “…I’ve been _here_ with her. Well, not the mother-out-of-the-blue, but I’ve seen her handle news she thinks she can’t handle. She’s gonna be like a bull in a china shop soon and John and I will be at the other end of the bar to help. Or save a poor unsuspecting patron,” Fusco said, having had to break up a fight between Sameen and someone who looked at her the wrong way.

“Fine!” Root said, rolling her eyes as she walked away.

“She … sounded just …,” John said in his low voice.

“Yeah,” Fusco agreed, thinking how much like Shaw Root just sounded. “Scary, ain’t it?” The two men entered the tavern and stood at the end of the long bar. Reese could already see that Shaw had ordered her drink and how downed it before the bartender stepped away.

John ordered his drink and a seltzer for Fusco. “Well, I didn’t see that coming,” he said to Fusco.

“Which part? The mommy dearest , or the _hi I haven’t seen you in thirty years but would you like to work for me_ part?” Fusco asked. “That broad has one set of ….”

“Yeah, you said,” John noted.

“I think we ask her for a DNA sample,” Fusco thought through.

“I don’t think we need it, Lionel. Shaw said it was her,” John reminded him.

“Both parents CIA?” Lionel whispered in amazement. “No wonder she’s tough as nails,” he reasoned, as if it were genetically passed down.

* * *

Two drinks into it, Shaw finally felt like she could breathe. “I should have …,” she said, unable to say that about her own mother.

“Sameen, please don’t rush to make sense out of this. There’s still a lot of missing pieces,” Root attempted to reason.

“Can you imagine … spying on me? Knowing what I was going through and being a peeping Tom on your own kid. It’s no wonder I’m so screwed …,” Shaw attempted to say, but Root wouldn’t let her. She leaned in and kissed her before she could finish it.

“You’re perfect,” Root reminded her.

“Yeah, perfectly….,” Shaw attempted, but her mouth was once again covered. It was starting to feel good.

“Are you going to do that every time I try to point out how fuc…,” Shaw asked, but her answer came in the return of Root’s lips to hers.

“Yes,” Root said, sipping her soda.

Shaw stared at her girlfriend and wanted to be annoyed at how calm she was, sitting there and not letting her beat herself up. It drove her crazy that Root didn’t flinch at her threats. It also made her feel the safest she had … ever … in her life. Just realizing that, made Shaw nervous and she downed her third drink. “The least you could do is drink with me,” reasoned the woman who was drunk now.

“I can’t, Sweetie,” Root all but pouted.

“Why? Did you lose your chauffeur and will have to drive home? I’m pretty sure Fusco and Reese are at the other end of this bar. I can feel them hovering, waiting to pounce,” said the astute woman.

“No, silly, I’m not driving. I’ll be holding your head when you’re throwing up later,” Root said, aware of all that whiskey was going to hit Sameen’s stomach soon.

Now that was a statement that should have sent Shaw over the edge; the mere idea that she couldn’t hold her liquor. But out of Root’s mouth, it was like poetry to the woman who just stared at the lips that said them. Of course, the lips were getting blurry.  
The last drink was numbing Shaw’s head and loosening her lips. She suddenly took in how beautiful Root was; her long hair, her ivory skin, the way her eyes often beat her lips to the punch when she was smiling. The way she genuinely blushed whenever Shaw paid her a compliment, which she decided, wasn’t often enough. “You are so…beautiful,” Shaw said sincerely, gazing into Root’s eyes and thinking how lucky she was.

“Really?” Root asked and then thanked Sameen. She blushed at the compliment and felt the heat of Shaw’s stare.

* * *

Fusco looked at his watch. It had been the longest he had known his friend to go without making a scene. “I think we’re coming up on a record,” he said.

“Yeah?” Reese asked with some suspicion. He was tall enough to see that Shaw had just ordered her fifth drink.

And then they heard it.  _BANG!_

John immediately reached for the clip he had taken out of Shaw’s gun, but it was missing. Fusco was showing his badge and making his way down to the other end of the bar where the shot was heard. People were screaming, which actually confused Sameen. She had purposely shot it in the air to get their attention. She had a message and she wanted to shout it from the rooftops – or in this case – she stood on the metal railing at the foot of the bar.

“I LOVE THIS WOMAN!” Shaw shouted, going on in spite of the fact that people had ducked down to the floor.

“NYPD,” Fusco said, showing the bartender his badge. “I got this,” he said, taking out his handcuffs, but not using them.

“Oh, Sameen,” Root said, because she was so taken with the message … and ignoring the dangerous way it was delivered. She reached out and kissed Sameen so hard; she used up what little oxygen the woman had in her.

Shaw passed out just in time of Fusco and Reese to hold her under the arms and take her out of the bar.

Root called her chauffeur who met them outside. The men put their friend in the back seat. “I’ll go in and … clean this up,” Fusco said and Reese said he would help.

“Can you manage her?” John asked because he knew the night was not over for Root.

“I can,” Root said, almost gleefully.

Fusco shook his head at the mess his friend had just made. Reese was going to help him calm patrons and persuade the owners to not press charges.

Root sat in the backseat of the car; Shaw’s head in her lap, as she stroked her hair. “I love you, Sameen Shaw,” Root bent over and whispered in her ear.

Even semiconscious, Shaw murmured, “I know.”


	7. Gravity

Sameen pulled herself up in the backseat before they arrived home. “I like that you have your own car. Crawling home in the subways sucks,” she shared and a cold chill came over Root. The thought of this wonderful woman, drunk and finding her way home alone pierced her heart.

* * *

“You slapped my mother,” Sameen said as she held onto the elevator railing. The memory of that event was just finding its way up to her awareness.

“Yes, yes, I did,” Root said, unsure of whether or not she should apologize.

“Thank you,” Shaw said, unable to stand up straight by herself.

“It was actual my pleasure,” Root confessed, gently pushing her body into Shaw’s so she didn’t fall.

* * *

The door opened to the Penthouse and Shaw called out to Bear in the loudest voice he ever heard her use … except when she was yelling or threatening him. This was … friendly. He came running, stopping short of Sameen’s open arms and looked at Root to ask if it were safe. The slightest nod from her meant it was and he continued to jump at his waiting admirer. Sameen was especially affectionate with him, playing with him as she sat on the floor and hugging him. “You know I love you right?” she asked him and he affirmed by a loud bark. “Don’t go telling everyone,” she complained as she slowly sat back against the wall. “I have a reputation.”

Bear was in heaven. The second woman in his life was showering him with true affection and he was practically losing his mind. She was FINALLY trained, he determined, and he couldn’t have been happier.

In those few moments that Shaw and Bear were playing nicely, Root wasted no time in setting some things in motion. A few clicks at her computer checked into things that might prove or disprove Azar’s story. She also checked the tattoo that she noticed on the maid’s arm. She didn’t want to stir things up again for Sameen, so she would wait until she slept off her current state.

But while Root was putting programs into action, Shaw was already planning her next move.

* * *

“Could you let me clean up one mess before we create the next one?” Fusco yelled at Reese as he ran after him outside the bar. It had just taken Fusco twenty minutes to explain that the crazy woman meant no harm. First, he tried saying she didn’t mean it.

Then, when John figured out that Sameen was no longer an unknown quantity because everyone knew Root, he whispered what would work. “Sorry folks, love just got the better everyone’s favorite bodyguard,” he kidded and that people could understand.

John slipped the owner enough cash to fix the hole in the ceiling and told him he could keep the bullet as a souvenir. “My ass is already on the line for not reporting a shooting incident the way it happened. Service revolver goes off … is what my report will say. Wait up!” Fusco yelled since John was being his usual unsympathetic self.

“Where would _you_ go if your mother just appeared out of the blue?” Reese finally stopped and asked Fusco.

“Therapy, where I should be now, having my head examined for being friends with you loons,” Fusco answered.

“Come on, Lionel. We gotta get ready,” John said not explaining what he meant, but not needing to because Fusco was right behind him.

They stopped so John could pick up dinner for them and Lee and then, they went back to Fusco’s apartment to check in.

“Is Aunt Sameen okay?” was the first thing the young Fusco asked his father.

“Sure, why?” Lionel answered, setting out the hamburgers and fries.

“Well, for one thing, it’s almost midnight and you guys are just eating, and two, it was on the news,” the young man said, clicking the television on to the news about the fames CEO’s bodyguard.

“ _Samantha Groves’ bodyguard is shooting off more than her mouth tonight,_ ” the reporter said.

“Oh geez, that’s gonna be a lot of paperwork,” Lionel confessed.

* * *

Root suddenly realized that there was silence in the entry way where moments before Sameen and Bear were having a love fest. Bear ran to Root with the Shaw doll in his mouth. He actually tossed it at Root and barked. “I don’t sew, you know that. I’ll ask Isabelle tomorrow,” Root promised. The dog whined … because he possessed little patience. “I know you want it fixed now, but you’ll have to wait.”

Bear went and sulked in the corner, having no choice but to wait for his Shaw likeness to be repaired. He did lie there with a ‘ _how difficult could it be to sew for someone with opposable thumbs?_ ’ look on his face.

* * *

Root went upstairs to find Sameen when she heard the shower water on. “You need help in there?” Root asked, certain the answer would be yes.

"No,” came back the response and within seconds, the water shut off and Sameen emerged, drying herself off with the towel. “Let’s go,” she said, even though her body was dripping wet with water.

“Whe…,” Root started to ask, but her girlfriend was standing naked in front of her and it was throwing off her train of thought. “Wha?” she said, trying to jumpstart her brain, but it was too late. Root’s entire being was screaming Team Shaw … make that, _Naked_ Team Shaw.

“Just let me get dressed,” Shaw said, not tuning into her girlfriend’s undivided attention and lack of coherency.

“Why … would you want to do _that_?” Root asked because it was honestly what she was thinking.

“We’re going back,” Shaw said, standing there with nothing on but her mischievous smile. The shower helped sober her up and with that, came the plan.

“We’re going ..to the hotel?” Root asked, knowing better than to refer to her by name or relation.

“Yes,” Shaw said and would discover one more reason why she was head over heels in love with the woman who was staring at her with a goofy smile.

“Okay,” Root answered.

That was it; not ...s _hould we think about this, do you feel well enough to go, maybe we should give it forty-eight hours in between parental visits._ Nothing like that. She just said okay. She didn’t stop staring, but she did say okay.

Root also waited to hear what Sameen had in mind. She watched her get dressed and then the two of them were in the entryway getting their jackets on. In her haste, Sameen grabbed Root’s leather jacket. Realizing it, it tried to take it off, but Root insisted she keep it on. “I like it on you,” she said, grabbing another one from the closest.

The only thing Shaw was sure of was that she wanted the element of surprise on her side and she was certain the maid, who wore a tattoo commonly associated with members of the Israel Defense Force, would try to stop them.

* * *

If you’re going to visit someone at a fancy hotel in New York and want to surprise them, you don’t walk through the front lobby. You go through a back entrance to the kitchen where the workers are so busy that when two beautiful women walk in, they get noticed … but not stopped. One wink from Sameen was their entrance fee.

They stepped into a service elevator and ascended. “Got it,” Root said, playing with her phone and disabling the cameras on the floor. Disabling cameras around the city took the whole ride over, but she was pretty sure she had managed to do it. They should have gone straight up to the top floor, but the elevator suddenly jerked and stopped. Shaw reached for her Glock, in case it was security, but it wasn’t.

“Thought you might need these,” John said, getting on and handing Shaw a pick lock set and duct tape. “Or this,” he said of the small explosive if that didn’t work.

“Thanks,” Shaw said, surprised to see him, but grateful he thought of her.

“Lionel sends his regards,” he said, to let her know the detective knew about the plan, but had his hands full with her first escapade of the evening.

Root had a new found respect for her former bodyguard who seemed to be able to predict Shaw’s movements and offer his support. He was a good guy, that John Reese.

“What’s the plan?” asked the man who thought knowing it might be helpful – as they exited the elevator.

“We’re going to talk,” Shaw said and skillfully picked the lock. She turned the knob slowly and carefully after Root held a device to the wall that decoded the security code to the alarm. Inside, she put it in within the time before any alarm was set off.

They were right about one thing – the woman whom they had seen in the gray and white uniform before was no maid. As soon as the trio entered the room, she woke up.

Root sat up on the desk where a bowl of fruit was displayed. She grabbed an apple and tossed one to Reese. “What’s this for?” he asked, just as the bodyguard appeared in the doorway and charged at Sameen.

“She’s got this,” Root said, with every confidence in her girlfriend to handle the foreign military trained woman.

John watched to make sure Shaw wasn’t losing as the woman matched her hand to hand combat moves and flipped Shaw over, landing her on her back on the floor.

“Footwork, Sameen,” Root shouted over like a parent on the sidelines at a basketball meet. Shaw looked over, taken with how calmly Root was sitting there. Root waved her two fingers back and forth – the international sign for ‘move your feet more’.

“Are you sure …?” John said, feeling like the bodyguard was getting the upper hand.

“Sameen has to get through that woman to get to her mother,” Root shouted - not really for Reese’s benefit. Root smiled at Reese because she had just thrown the verbal fuel to the fire that Sameen needed to subdue the woman. And just like that, Sameen’s mind focused on what the bodyguard was doing, matching her moves and overthrowing her now.

Root was right – nothing was going to get in Sameen’s way. “That’s my girl,” Root gushed at how strong Sameen was. Then, she jumped off the desk, and grabbed the duct tape that John had brought. “You sit down and rest a minute while John and I tie her up,” Root said, and they did just that.

* * *

Sameen knew a dozen different ways to capture and kidnap a person, but she needed one that was proven to be very quick and effective. Root handed her the accoutrements that were time tested. Sameen crept into Azar’s bedroom and flipped on the light.

The woman woke with a start, surprised to say the least that anyone got past her alarm system and deadly trained bodyguard.

“Hello, Mother,” Shaw said and took aim. “Did you miss me?” she asked as she shot the Taser and then injected her with the syringe.

Azar stared up at her daughter who had surpassed any thought she gave to how she would return. Completely immobile and starting to succumb to the drug, she drifted off as she heard Sameen say;

“We’re going to have so much fun together.”

Azar fell down into a deep sleep, worried about what her daughter's definition of that word meant. 


	8. Hell Hath No Fury

Just because they transported Sameen’s mother to her apartment smoothly, didn’t mean that Shaw knew exactly what to do next.  John carried the middle aged woman into the building where Shaw knew no one would raise an eyebrow at the sight. John thought he should feel better leaving Azar zip tied to a chair because Root would talk sense into Shaw if she snapped and wanted to do something crazy. But one look at Root told him that she was ready, willing, and able to back up Sameen on anything she decided.

“Holy cheese and crackers!” Fusco bellowed when he went to Shaw’s apartment to see how they all were and saw what they were doing.

“You got to close that door, Shaw,” Reese chastised her. Anyone could pass by her opened door and see the unconscious woman tied to a chair. The fact that no one would care is what made Sameen sloppy in her moves. She wasn’t expecting the good detective to show up.

“When you said yous were going back, I kinda thought …okay. So, I’m guessing she accompanied you here and tied herself in that chair. That’s what I think happened,” Fusco ranted on and on because witnessing a kidnapping would require a lot of paperwork.

“Yeah,” Shaw said. “We’re about to have a real mother daughter chat, so if you two want to go grab something to eat…”

Lionel looked around for some comfort in this situation, but there was none. Shaw’s gun was sticking out of the back of her pants and there was a long knife on her table. “Look,” he said to Shaw in a whisper. “Even for you, stabbing a senior would be a new low.”

Staring him dead straight in the eye, she responded; “You don’t know that.”

“Jezzus, Shaw! It’s your mother!” Fusco whispered emphatically, thinking he was the only one in the room who was thinking this through. “You want to help me out here, Captain Crunch?”

Root could see how upset Lionel was getting and she understood. “Listen, Lionel, I think Sameen’s got this under control. It’s all about fair play,” she explained.

“Yeah,” Sameen affirmed upon hearing how well her girlfriend explained their insane actions. “Fair play.”

Azar started to stir and Root suggested that Lionel would want to leave. Root nodded at John to go with him so he didn’t carry on when he left. “Oh, geez,” Lionel said, caught between wanting to stay and talk sense into his friend and not wanting to see something he’d then have to arrest her for. “You text me,” he said, pointing at Shaw like a worried parent.

“I’ll send you pictures,” she said getting impatient that he wasn’t leaving.

“Okay, good,” he said too hastily and then changed his answer to – “No! Don’t …just text, Shaw!”

John gently took Fusco by the shoulder and led him out into the hallway. The whole time he was stammering about whether or not they should leave. And then, with one final attempt at instructions – he yelled back, “USE YOUR WORDS, SHAW!”

* * *

Root closed the door quickly before Sameen could go after him. “He means well, Sweetie,” she said, because she truly believed it. Azar stirred a little more and Sameen turned her attention back to her. She pulled up a chair and sat inches away from her, waiting for her to come to. She wanted to be the very first thing she saw when she awoke.

Azar opened her eyes, not surprised to see her daughter, but surprised at her location. She wasn’t sure if it was a warehouse at first, give the bareness and darkness. “Where am I?” she asked, her throat very parched from the drug.

“Mi casa, su casa,” Shaw opened up with.

The woman looked around and got her bearings. She was surprised that the room was so bare, although she had known its location for some time now. She drew the line at accessing anything that would allow her to see Sameen in her home.  
“Tell me, mother, is there anything in my apartment that one of your …maids … might have placed here?” was the first question. Shaw was pretty sure there wasn’t anything because she often swept the place for devices.

“No,” Azar assured her. “Did you … harm Ayala?”

Instinctively, Sameen knew she meant her bodyguard. The hurt that started to erupt was suppressed with a sarcastic laugh. “The fact that you asked that, means you know what I am capable of, doesn’t it?” Sameen leaned in and asked her guest.

Azar stared back into dark pools of anger, but could hear the hurt in her daughter’s voice. She had to do this Sameen’s way; it was the least she could do. “Yes,” she answered.

Root was sensing that Sameen might have gotten her stubborn nature from the woman who sat in front of her at the moment when she attempted to take control of the conversation. Azar pulled back in her chair and spoke to Root. “Well, Ms. Groves, I would venture a guess that you have put together quite a bit since we last met.”

Sure, a part of Sameen’s brain screamed – _Stop talking to my girlfriend_ – but she wasn’t about to let her mother have her way.

“I guess you had a lot of time on your hands after abandoning us to pick up on your IT skills. Root probably has figured it out and doesn’t want to say too much for fear I will snap … you know … while you’re tied up there … without your Ayala … who by the way, went down like a sack of cement.”

Sameen didn’t know it, but she was sending a threatening message with a layer of promise, but that had a gooey center of pure hurt. Root heard it, too, and came up behind Sameen and put her hand on her shoulder. It was a move that Sameen wasn’t used to in interrogations where she was trying to appear like a block of ice.

Ayala may have gone done after a good fight, but it was going to take more than sure footedness to throw Azar.

“I know there is a fine line between your curiosity and your hurt, Sameen,” Azar said and Shaw lunged forward in her chair, closing the distance.

“Do _not_ call me that! I will snap you like a twig the next time you say my name.”

Root had to intervene. She could see that going near Azar was like being touched with a hot poker for Sameen. As soon as she got her hands on her, the pain was unbearable.

Then, the depth of this paradox came to Root.

Sameen brought this woman back to exactly where she wanted to be – with her daughter. Whatever pain Shaw could inflict now, might not be as bad as what the woman had endured by being separated. That conclusion pushed Root backwards as she leaned against the table. To truly pay this woman back, Sameen would have to cut her out of her life. But apparently, that could be impossible.

“When I was undercover, I had a handler. If something happened to me, I could get a message to that person,” Shaw shared, waiting for her mother to explain.

“I had no handler. I was working for a group whose activities would not have been sanctioned. When I gave them what they wanted, I was done. But I was the face of the operation and the men who I stole it from, knew me,” Azar answered.

“So, they watched you, but didn’t torture you for where their device was?” Shaw asked.

“They knew if someone was using their device, they'd hear about it. They waited, patiently, hoping I would reach out for help. I never did,” Azar answered.

“You think they killed my father?” Sameen asked.

“I know they did. They told me they did. I had no reason not to believe them. What they didn’t realize was that I found what else was on the device. They waited to see if their program turned up anywhere and when it didn’t, they assumed whoever got it, didn’t realize what they had. But I did. I knew enough about code to know that this program was extensive and could be used using the very infrastructure of a city, a nation. I studied it until I could figure out a way to use it against them,” Azar explained as Sameen and Root listened. Then, her eyes locked on Sameen. “Eventually, I took care of them.”

“And you continued to use their program?” Sameen asked, unaffected by the fact that her mother killed her father’s killers.

“I discovered that … yes, I could use it to see you. I just had to attach my program to anything that gave me sound or visual and I could be there. Your high school graduation, you college commencement, when you made medical …” she added, feeling like there might be a window of opportunity to give details.

Sameen slammed the window shut. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You were there. Spying on me. Did you know when I lost my virginity?”

Her pointed question drew the response – “Wait, what?” but it wasn’t from Azar. It was Root who was unnerved by that question.

“Of course not,” Azar answered. “I was only watching things that I would have seen anyway. I kept tabs on your whereabouts, but I never spied on your comings and goings. I promise you that.”

“When did ..,” Root heard herself asking and decided now was not the time. “Why … did you want to hire us?” she asked instead.

Azar smiled up at Root. She had been following Root’s career for years. She knew what a genius she was. She also knew that there was a time when John was her bodyguard and how that didn’t work out well for either of them. She had connected the dots a while ago that her daughter’s guardian angel was a NYPD detective who was good friends with John Reese. Who better to fill his job?

“I know a great deal about this system, Ms. Groves, and I know its capabilities are far greater than I can take it. Given the right nurturing by the right people, I believe this could be something that could benefit a great many number of people,” she explained.And if that didn’t capture Root’s interest enough, Azar then added, “It can learn.”

“What do you mean?” Root asked and Sameen was beginning to think they were getting off track here. She wasn’t so blatantly upset because it gave her time to calm down and think about her next move.

“After I input all the information I could find on … you, the machine started to anticipate my inquiries. It began telling me if she was in danger, if help was needed. Like in Mosul,” Azar shared and Sameen caught herself from reacting.

“Oh, I thought it was the CIA who sent that helicopter in to save my ass in Mosul,” Shaw laughed sarcastically. “But now you’re telling me it was you.”

That’s when Sameen expected her mother to say – ‘ _Don’t be ridiculous, how could I send an Army helicopter at exactly the moment your mission blew up because your informant was double crossing the USA'_. Except she didn’t. Instead, she said – “Yes, I am.”

“How?” Root asked and moved closer to Sameen again who was obviously in distress over this information.

“Once I knew where Sameen was, I could infiltrate the hardware of the location. I wrote a program that would detect anomalies, such as a mission taking longer than it was anticipated. It also told me if there were unusual activities or disruptions in energy patterns. From that data, I knew that your mission in Mosul was in jeopardy because of the readings given off by the rebels’ bomb vests,” Azar said, and the recollection of how close her daughter came to being killed still resonated with her.

Sameen sat there, shaking her head, unable to grasp that it was her own mother who saved her and not the government who sent her there. “So, this machine of yours, it just commandeered a rescue helicopter to show up. Like Uber cars … you just sent a request on your phone and it appeared?” Shaw said sardonically.

Azar understood how difficult this was. She looked at Root who would be able to grasp that technical aspect that this could be possible. “A … coded message … was sent from very high up.” That’s all she had to say to make Root understand that somehow she was able to access the army’s secured communication and alert them that the mission was in trouble. No one would question that when in fact, it turned out to be true.

“How many are there of you?” Root asked.

“Very few,” Azar answered. “When I realized what this program was capable of doing, I used it to settle a score. I worried that others would follow. I have Ayala to protect me and a couple of people I trust to maintain our secrecy.”

“Trust… is _so_ important,” Sameem spat out.

It was dawning on Sameen that no spoken blow touched Azar the way she hoped. The woman sat there, not pulling against her restraints, not flinching when she tried to attack her verbally. “Is it the guilt that keeps you so still?” Sameen asked.

“Yes,” Azar answered truthfully.

“Well, then,” Sameen retorted. “I guess you’re going to be sitting here for a long time.”

Azar may have used a program to help predict her daughter’s moves, but Shaw used her training and know-how to consider the possibilities. Given how long the abduction was already in progress, she got up from her chair, put her finger to her lips smugly and opened her door. As she predicted, the bodyguard was there to collect Azar. What she got instead was Sameen giving her a sharp blow to the windpipe that knocked her forward. Then, Sameen subdued her with a jab to the the shoulder blade with her elbow. Ayala came to moments later, next to her boss.

“You really are as good as they say,” Azar said like the proud parent she wasn’t entitled to be.

“If that’s the case, mother, you better be afraid. Very afraid,” Sameen said, securing the bodyguard in the chair with ease.

Root tried to keep in mind that this was Sameen’s mother tied up and that there was the strong possibility that the woman had harnessed a program that could do major good in the world. Or not, depending on who had it. That alone was making Root’s mechanical brain spin. But those things were all taking second place to watching her girlfriend beat up the bodyguard – again – and be the firecracker that she had come to love.

“That is definitely a turn on,” Root said to herself and then realized from the dead stare that Sameen was giving her, she had let that thought out of her mouth.


	9. Intentional Force

For a woman whose IQ was off the charts, Root sometimes didn’t process Shaw’s expressions quickly enough before acting on her feelings. Add that to the fact that she secretly... oh, who are we kidding … Root openly… loved demonstrating her affection for Sameen. So, even though Shaw gave her the – _I’m grilling my mother here_ – frown, after she said how hot Sameen was, Root still lurched forward and kissed her.

Sameen was absolutely certain that it was an avowed rule to never kiss the person conducting the interrogating. She was also sure Root never read that manual.

“Oot!” Shaw said as Root’s lips mashed into hers. It wasn’t that Sameen didn’t enjoy the feel of Root’s soft lips on hers or even the taste of her sweet lip gloss, but the timing was off. Root was propelled into motion by Sameen’s magnetism, and the feel of Shaw’s lips was keeping her there for more. “Root!” Sameen said again.

“Oh,” Root said, her head light from the impulsiveness of that peck. She stood back, putting her finger up to her bottom lip as she pulled it in to savor the sensation. “She’s …,” Root said when she realized both Azar and her bodyguard were staring at them.

“She’s …,” and Root didn’t think the word _adorable_ or _hot_ were appropriate for the present audience; so she chose … “Right.”

The bodyguard saw it as Shaw’s Achilles’ heel, but Azar saw it as her daughter’s strong suit and coughed to interrupt Ayala’s planning. “It’s okay,” the woman said to her protector. She didn’t want any more fighting. And while Azar had always been pleased to know someone was looking out for her daughter, it warmed her heart to see it in person. But she was a practical woman and there were matters at hand she wanted to take care of. “Let her go,” Azar said of the woman who couldn’t believe Shaw had subdued her so quickly.

“I’m sorry …,” Shaw said in disbelief the way you talk when the other person did not get the memo you were in charge. “….Did I say … let’s _negotiate_ the terms of this arrangement?”

“She didn’t,” Root answered to refresh the woman’s memory.

“She’s of no use to you,” Azar pointed out, which was totally unnecessary.

Shaw detested the way this woman was being so magnanimous about her bodyguard. “Let me tell you something,” she started and got very stiff, her lip curling up. “When you’ve been captured and are sitting in a chair zip tied, that’s a definite sign that your bodyguard failed you. _Miserably_ ,” Sameen said, looking right into the other woman’s eyes. “So, perhaps, she’s of no use to you.”

“ _Oh, she’s good_ ,” Root thought of her lover’s repartee.

The bodyguard started to struggle and protest which only distracted Sameen. So, Root did the only thing a girlfriend would do; she drugged her. “There!” Root said as if she had just straightened the crooked picture on the wall and put everything in its place.

Azar looked over at the woman slumped in the chair and realized that Root wasn’t necessarily going to be swayed by the technology alone. In fact, it was perfectly clear what her only priority was here.

“Now what?” Root said, sitting up on the only table in the whole apartment.

But Shaw didn’t know what to do next. She wanted to be angry at what her mother had done, but the more she looked at this woman, the harder that was. Azar’s obvious displaced affection for the younger woman asleep next to her didn’t even anger Sameen anymore. It hurt, but Shaw wasn’t allowing those feelings just yet.

Azar could see the hesitation in her daughter and knew when that happened to a highly skilled person, their emotions were getting to them. “You could do a great deal of good with this machine,” she pointed out.

“You mean like you did by spying on me?” Shaw snapped. “I’m not really the … _voyeur_ type.”

“How long before it’s back online?” Root asked, knowing that what she did was a temporary interruption and if it was as powerful as Azar was indicating, it would be back live soon.

A slight smile escaped Azar’s lips because of how proud she was on the machine’s capabilities. Knowing that meant it already was, Root asked where it was. Azar looked over at Sameen and decided she wasn’t going to share that just yet. “You’ll forgive me for not answering that, Ms. Groves, but I’ve received no assurances from ….,” and she paused because she knew better than to call Sameen by her name or relation, “…anyone … that you won’t do something to it if you decide not to join me.”

The audacity of this woman was started to paralyze Shaw’s good senses. “Join? Join you?” she asked in disbelief. “Lady, you are this far away from being ripped apart!” she threatened.

Truth be told, the only one in the room who thought Shaw might be a physical threat right now was unconscious. Even Root could see the struggle going inside her lover.

“Here’s how I see our options,” Root spoke up – not for Azar’s benefit, but to help Sameen think. “We kill you; we find your machine and destroy it, we find it and take it.”

“You won’t find it,” Azar was certain and said so.

Sameen was listening to Root outline their choices. The mixture of feelings was making her thinking process a little cloudy, but she came up with her choice. “I say we find it ….,” she said, looking down at Azar. “And then we let you watch us …destroy it.”

Shaw saw Azar flinch; but she didn’t notice a similar reaction on her girlfriend’s face. But Azar did. After all, it was the machine who led her to Samantha Groves.

* * *

Uptown, Daan was having one heck of a time controlling the dog that sensed something was very wrong. The tutor tried to calm him with his usual favorites, but nothing seemed to work. Bear kept putting the dolls Gen and Lee made in Daan’s lap, but the man couldn’t get it. Even speaking to him in Dutch didn’t console the dog who pulled Daan to the elevator. “Oh, you have to go out! Why didn’t you say so,” the man asked, getting the leash for Bear and taking him on the elevator.  
Bear decided then and there, the man was of no use to him. So, when the elevator door opened, Bear ditched him. He took off, running outside and down the street. Daan attempted to go after him, but Bear weaved in and out of the crowd and lost him. ‘Piece of cake’, the dog thought. He knew exactly where to go and raced downtown to Shaw’s apartment.

Ever since Root and Sameen left the house, he sensed something was wrong. He needed to find out for himself what was going on because most of the time, the other mammals in the house were of little use.

* * *

The longer they sat there in silence, the clearer Sameen was thinking. She decided she had actually accomplished what she wanted; she surprised and subdued her mother and was in complete control. If she acted on any more of her threats, it would just keep them together. And that was the last thing she wanted, she thought.

But in the few minutes it took Shaw to come to that conclusion, Azar was talking to Root about the machine. “I wish she would listen,” Azar said when Sameen went in the bathroom to splash water on her face. “Imagine what you could do with that capability,” she enticed Root. “Right now, we use it to see situations as they are happening for the most part, but I believe if the right person wrote the right program, this machine might be able to predict events, based on probability,” she said quickly and Root’s mind was racing.

Root wasn’t answering, but she was listening. She hoped that Sameen would say that she wanted to see the operation, but she knew Azar wasn’t about to have an open house without some kind of commitment. With that, Sameen emerged from the inner room, took the knife off the table and approached her mother. “You can go now,” she said, snapping the zip ties with the blade. Then, she did the same to the semiconscious bodyguard. “Take your pet with you.”

Ayala snapped to quickly and jumped up from her chair, ready to match any move Sameen made. What she wasn’t counting on was the hundred pound Belgian Shepherd crashing through Shaw’s door and going right for the woman he sensed to be the bigger threat. Everyone was surprised to see the dog, but no one more than Ayala, whose arm was in his mouth as he held her in place. “GET HIM …,” she was yelling and went to grab the knife, but Shaw took it out of her reach.

“He does not like you,” Shaw said, and Bear could tell by her tone that she didn’t feel threatened. He held onto the bodyguard until Shaw called him over.  “Good, Bear,” she said and he was happy and relieved to hear she was okay. He sat right next to her and snarled a threatening growl.  “He really doesn’t like you,” Shaw said, almost smiling that he was such a good read of people.

“This is not the way I planned our talk,” Azar admitted as she stood up and stood next to Ayala.

“You’re done planning,” Shaw said, feeling very much in control. She was discarding them as fast as she had captured them and that made her feel good.

Root heard a low beeping sound coming from Azar’s expensive watch. The woman looked down and her expression became very serious. “We have to go,” she said, gently pushing the bodyguard ahead of her.

But it was too late.

The bullet shattered the dirty window in Shaw’s apartment, sending everyone ducking for cover. Root realized that Sameen had instinctually pulled her under her before diving to the floor.  
It was only one shot, but it had hit its intended target.

“AZAR!” the bodyguard yelled when she saw that the older woman had been struck.


	10. Justice for All

“And Fusco?” his captain shouted out to him after yelling for thirty minutes, “I want that file completed tonight!”

“Sure thing, Captain,” Fusco said and then let out a string of words when he thought about the mess he was cleaning up about Shaw shooting her gun in a bar.

Suddenly, there was a rush of people going past his desk. “You coming?” one of the rookies asked him.

“What? Someone bring free food?” he asked as he settled in to complete all the paperwork.

“Detective, there’s been a shooting …,” the young woman looked around and leaned over to tell Fusco the address. Officer Davis was well aware of Fusco’s relationship with the dark eyed beautiful woman who had worked with the NYPD in the past. Davis’ interest in Sameen Shaw had been an all-out girl crush from the first time she saw her. So, naturally she would ask Fusco about Shaw whenever she could, and one of the things she knew was that if anything happened at that address, Fusco was always called.

“Someone was shot?” Fusco yelled, jumping up from his desk.

“Two people … possibly,” Davis was trying to say, but Fusco was already running out of the room.

“Holy crap! Woman, late fifties - early sixties?” he asked the young cop.

“How …did you know?” she asked, running alongside him now.

“She shot her mother? She shot her mother? Maybe it was self-defense,” he stammered, unable to get his head around that. “I should never have left them alone. Dammit! I knew she was upset,” he ranted as he made his way to his car. The officer was right there and asked if she could go with him.

Fusco knew he wouldn’t make it there before the other precinct downtown, but he had to go to see how he could help Shaw. He took off before the cop had the door closed. He remembered what kind of woman Sameen’s mother appeared to be and didn’t think she’d go down without a fight. “You said two people ….” He reiterated to the cop. His heart was pounding in his chest until she answered.

“Details sketchy, sir,” the cop explained.

“Okay, okay…I hope they didn’t ….you know …..each other. I didn’t think she’d actually shoot her mother …. I mean, who shoots their mother?” he rambled as he started driving again. “But that lady …now, she could possibly have shot ….no. No!” The thought that Shaw was injured sent him flying through traffic downtown.

* * *

For Root, it all happened so quickly. Sameen had just released her mother and her bodyguard. They were standing there, getting ready to leave when they heard the explosion of the window being shattered. It took Root seconds to figure out what that was, but her very well trained girlfriend got it instantaneously. The next thing Root knew was Shaw had pushed her to the ground and was covering her with her entire body. Ayala was doing the same with Azar, who was bleeding. Root looked and saw Sameen’s other hand had managed to pull Bear down, too. “Stay down,” Sameen said in a low voice and within seconds, she pulled out a case from under her bad, assembled the rifle with the high powered scope and aimed it at the building.

Root did not do as she asked and poked her head up. There was no one on the roof, but she watched as Sameen slowly aimed the gun at the building, following her unseen target, and shot. It was a direct hit ...through the brick wall and Root knew this because the assailant then fell back through the glass window and down onto the sidewalk. Shaw looked around for a few more seconds, but apparently he was alone. She then looked back at her mother and called 911.

Shaw was a body in motion as she made sure Root and Bear were okay and then checked on her mother. Ayala was applying pressure to the wound and her mother was semiconscious. She called out to Sameen by name this time. This was no time for anger. Sameen bent down to her mother as she reached out and grabbed ahold of her hand. “I’m sorry I brought this to your door,” she whispered to her daughter.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sameen responded because if she hadn’t kidnapped her mother, they wouldn’t have been across the street. But Azar meant it metaphorically as well. Now that she had made contact with Sameen, she brought the danger to her.

“I was stupid for doing this,” her mother gasped out.

“We got this, okay?” Sameen said, and heard the sirens getting closer. Root was very much aware of how reassuring Sameen’s tone of voice was now.

Gone was the snarkiness and frustration from before.

* * *

EMT’s were on their way up when Fusco pulled up to the scene. “You do as I say here,” he said sharply to the young cop.

“Yes, sir,” Officer Davis said.

He flashed his badge and pushed past anyone who tried to get in his way, his new protégé behind him. He was on the phone with John as he made his way upstairs. “Not sure, yet, Reese, but we got a situation,” is all he had to say and John was on his way. The detective was out of breath as he climbed the stairs to Shaw’s floor and held onto the wall as he pushed himself to go as fast as possible. The stretcher was being pushed down the narrow hallway as the EMT’s exited with the injured party.

“She okay? What happened?” Fusco asked, but the medics were more interested in getting Azar to the hospital. “Where’s the other victim?” he shouted.

Fusco pushed past the cops hoping that when he saw Shaw, she wasn’t handcuffed. “Do not speak to her,” he shouted down into the apartment. “I got this. You get away from her,” he yelled even though no one was near Sameen yet.

“So, the shooter was on the roof…,” the cop at the scene was asking Root and writing everything down when Lionel got there. Davis noticed that he went right over to Shaw and grabbed her up by her forearms and stood her there until he had scanned her entire body to see if she were hurt.

“What the hell, Lionel?” Shaw barked at his odd handling of her.

“Where’s Captain Crunch?” he barked back and Officer Davis thought maybe Lionel was losing it.

“Here,” Root said, after talking to the policeman taking her statement.

“Oh, thank God,” Lionel said, losing his usual crime scene composure and hugging Root. Root stood stiffly in the embrace, raising an eyebrow over Lionel’s shoulder and looking at Shaw.

“Just…go with …it,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes at her friend’s exuberance.

“Did you ….?”Lionel said, releasing Root and looking around to try and piece together what happened. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Did I what?” Shaw said slowly because she could see that Lionel was trying to figure it out.

“Did … you …?” he started to say through his teeth so no one would hear Shaw’s confession.

“Shoot her?” Shaw said, surprised that Lionel would think that.

“Well, she’s shot and there were two ..wait, who else was shot?” Lionel said, his gumshoe sense just catching up to his feet.

Shaw crossed her arm, shifted her weight onto one foot and pursed her lips at her friend. “The gunman who shot ….,” Shaw said, unable to find a comfortable adjective for her mother. “Azar.”

“Oh,” Lionel said, looking at the glass-less window and looking around. “But you’re okay, right?” Officer Davis noticed how the detective’s focus kept returning to Shaw’s well being.

“Well, my feelings are a little hurt that you think I would shoot my mother!” Shaw bellowed.

Lionel scanned the room, not to find evidence, but rather figure out how he was going to save his friend from yet another disaster. “Jesus, Shaw,” he said, scooping up the severed zip ties from the floor. “Shooting off your gun is hard enough to explain. Kidnapping ain’t something even I can finesse,” he whispered.

“So, Ms. Monir and her bodyguard were visiting,” they heard Root said to the officer, occupying him on purpose with long pauses so Fusco could make sure there wasn’t any incriminating evidence.

“I got my reasons and their good ones,” Lionel said to Officer Davis, who nodded her head.

The homicide detective, whose case this was about to be, walked into the apartment. He was a friend of Fusco’s and greeted him warmly. Lionel updated him with what he knew, explaining that Shaw was a consultant for the NYPD and therefore, was entitled to professional curtesy.

“We got a body downstairs that apparently was shot through a brick wall with a high powered rifle and then fell out the window. Which means, whoever shot him, timed his descent down those stairs over there with such incredible accuracy, she only needed one shot,” the detective said, putting what he had gathered all together.

“You’re welcome,” Shaw said, proud of her prowess.

“She is amazing,” Root said, grabbing onto Sameen’s arm and hugging her.

Lionel heard Officer Davis let out a long sigh at the sight of Root and Shaw. “What the…?” he commented, unable to figure out why she had this dreamy look in her eyes.

“So, I take it Ms. Shaw; _Sometime Consultant to the NYPD_ ,” the other detective said, “….that is your licensed rifle and you shot the perp? Through the wall?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Shaw answered, not in the mood. She was trying to act like nothing was going on, but she was starting to feel anxious about something.

“Okay, well we’ll need the gun and you to come down to the station, okay?” the friendly detective asked.

“Yeah, listen …could I bring her later. That was ….,” Lionel said, looking into the hallway. “…someone she knows so I’ll bring her in after we go to the hospital.”

“I can go with him now,” Shaw said, pushing her familial feelings to the side.

“Let’s go check on …her,” Root said, certain Sameen would regret it if she didn’t.

“Fine!” Sameen said, finding it easier to go see how Azar was when Root insisted.

“Any reason why someone would want to shoot your guest?” the detective asked Sameen.

She swallowed and looked at Root. She could tell Root was hoping she wouldn’t mention anything about the machine until they talked about it. “She’s former CIA,” Sameen said. “Probably made enemies.”

“Was that other woman her daughter?” he asked and it made anger stir in the pit of Shaw’s stomach.

“Bodyguard,” Sameen answered.

“Well, she keeps calling for her daughter. Do you know where I would reach her?” the detective asked.

Shaw looked away in disgust. Just her luck that her long lost mother, who appeared out of nowhere to find her and cause her nothing but havoc, would now put her down as next of kin.

Root was right next to Sameen and took her hand. However she decided to answer it, Root was going to back her up. Shaw was amazed at how one small gesture like taking her hand, could convey that whole message to her. She decided it wasn’t because of the gesture. It was because of Root.

“I’m …her daughter,” Sameen said, her throat getting scratchy at the declaration.

* * *

“You look very familiar to me,” Azar said to the doctor wearing a face mask, when they brought her into a small room in the Emergency Room.

“Ms. Morin, do you have any idea who did this?” the doctor asked in a very low tone.

Azar stared up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. “You … are Sameen’s friend,” she said, remembering John.

“Your … Shaw’s gonna go after these people, so anything you can tell me now, might help,” John said.

“They’re the Russian gang. The chip I stole for the government was Russian,” Azar said softly. Then she put her hand out on John’s arm before he left.

“Please talk Sameen out of doing this, Mr. Reese. These men are …dangerous.”

John looked down at the woman sympathetically, but raised his eyebrow. “I can try, but she’s a little stubborn.”

“Then talk to Samantha, Mr. Reese. Make her understand how dangerous it would be for Sameen,” Azar pleaded.

John knew he had to get out of there before someone discovered his disguise. “Root’s gonna be right alongside her,” John said … because he knew exactly how it would go down.

John Reese was a man who knew how to pick his battles. And rarely did he ever choose to fight the combined strength of Root and Shaw.


	11. Kinetic Energy

Sameen smiled politely as the forensic team removed her rifle and the lead detective assessed how it all happened. “Shooter on the roof takes one shot through the glass window; bullet traversed until it struck victim in the upper left hand shoulder,” the detective surmised. 

Shaw turned and stared at Fusco asking if now would be a good time to kill him.

“Yeah, okay, so you got everything you need, right?” Fusco asked and his fellow officer said that he did. Lionel saw them to the door and thanked them again.

“A little politeness can go a far way, Shaw,” he reminded his friend.

“I’ve heard the same about brains,” Sameen said as she slid down on her knees to pull out her weapons drawer under her bed. She started shoving guns in the back of her pants and strapped one to her leg.

“Which one do I get?” Root asked with the enthusiasm of someone so on board, she didn’t even ask what they were doing.

“Wait a minute you two,” Fusco whispered because he had sent Officer Davis outside to guard the door that didn’t need guarding. “What are you doing? Wait, do I want to know ….?”

“Fusco, whoever was on that roof, probably didn’t act alone,” Shaw said as she pulled out a gun for Root.

“And we’re going to find them,” Root added instinctively knowing what the rest was.

“You two?” Fusco asked. “How are you going to know where to even start?”

“Well,” Shaw said in a sing song voice that she used only when seriously manipulating someone, “…you’re going to find out what your detective friend finds out about the shooter, and we’re going to go from there.”

“Russian mob,” they heard someone say and turned to see John walking in.

“Who told you that, Captain America?” Fusco asked.

“Her ..,” and he halted. “Azar.”

Fusco scratched his head, but Sameen knew what John had done because it was what she would have done. Followed the victim, disguised herself to gain access to where the victim was, then question said victim. She gave John a fist bump and smiled at his cleverness. Fusco didn’t know it, but he was feeling jealous of Reese moving in on his Shaw-territory. “Okay, I’ll go back and see if I can’t get a location on anyone of these guys. It’s good to know _who_ they are and all, but you need to know _where_ they are.”

Root knew exactly what was happening. She knew jealous when she saw it and she completely understood that these two lugs would vie for Shaw’s attention. _Who wouldn’t?_

“Come on, Shaw,” Fusco said rather authoritatively.

“Where am I going?” Sameen asked.

“To visit your mother?” he said, reminding her.

“What if she were dead?” Root asked with the coolness of CEO proposing a crazy, but well thought out, idea.

Now it was Fusco and Shaw who asked – “WHAT?” together. Fusco liked they were on the same page.

“Suppose we have them announce that the victim expired. Whoever sent the gunman will think she’s out of the picture. Might give us some time to find these guys.”

“Brilliant,” Shaw admitted at the same time Fusco was expressing his doubt. He was worried about the two of them hunting down such dangerous perps. He worried Root was a distraction to Shaw.

“Okay, but nobody makes a move until you all have backup,” he demanded, knowing in his gut that no one was going to actually do that. He did make an excellent point though, when he asked Shaw where her mother should be brought because she couldn’t return to the hotel room.

“Our place,” Root volunteered.

“What!” Shaw replied. “No, no ….”

“No one would look for her there,” Root reasoned. “I mean, if they even suspected she wasn’t dead.”

“They found her here. What makes you think they won’t find her there?” Shaw asked, thinking about how weird that arrangement would be.

“Because my apartment is one of the few places that has its own scrambler shield so no electronic detection is possible,” Root explained as if she just said they had the extra bedroom.

“Oh,” Shaw replied, not really having an alternative suggestion.

"Of course, we are going to have to arrange for a funeral,” Root reasoned with a pleasant smile on her face.  
“What is it with you?” Fusco asked, and meant – _how can you say things like with the calmness of someone reading their grocery list._

“She’s right,” Shaw defended her lover.

* * *

The quartet left Shaw’s apartment; Bear in tow right by Shaw who had demonstrated how protective she was. Fusco and Shaw were going to the hospital where the bad news would be announced. Then Azar’s very much alive body would be transported – not to the morgue where the car was going, but to Root’s Penthouse apartment. John was making arrangements for a cremation … of a body … because … he knew a guy.

The hardest part of all of this, Fusco thought, was that Sameen was going to have to be convincing in her grief. He wasn’t sure how she’d pull that off. Every time she demonstrated what she would do in the car ride over to the hospital, both Fusco and Officer Davis would assess her.

“You sound cold,” Fusco said on the first try.

“Maybe a little more feeling?” Officer Davis suggested who was filling up just at the thought of her own mother dying.

“You two were made for each other,” Shaw complained from the back seat.

“Oh no,” Davis immediately replied. “I’d rather … I mean …Detective Fusco …. I think you can do it,” she stammered, making sure her allegiance to Shaw was noted.

“See?” Shaw smirked to Fusco.

“Don’t encourage that ego. There won’t be enough room for you in the car,” Fusco warned his protégé, to which he received a push on the back of his head from his friend.

* * *

Shaw did manage to pull it off. Fusco accompanied her to her mother’s bedside which was now filled by an unclaimed body designated to go to the crematory. Shaw was convincing in her grieving, which was a good thing because one of the nurses on duty that night was working for the mob. She reported back to her superiors that Azar Monir had died from her wound and the body was being sent to be cremated.  
By the time Shaw returned to the Penthouse, her mother was safe and sound in a bedroom upstairs; a doctor attending to her flesh wound.

“She okay?” Shaw asked Root who had seen to getting her mother settled.

“She’s fine. Doctor said two inches to the right and it would have been far more serious,” Root reported and then moved in closer to her girlfriend. It was the first time they had been alone in hours. “I have missed you,” and she meant naked in the shower, or in bed, or on the floor.

“I’ve been with you,” Shaw pointed out and it wasn’t until Root ran her finger down the front of Sameen’s top and slipped her finger past the lace of her bra, did Shaw get Root’s definition of missing. “Oh.”

“But I’m a patient woman,” Root assured her when she heard her computer emit a sound. “We may have found them.” With that, she dragged Shaw by the hand over to the couch where her laptop was showing hot spots in Brooklyn where arsenals of weapons were stored. “Could be here,” Root pointed out.

“So, she’s okay?” Shaw said, clearing her throat so she would sound nonchalant about Azar.

“She’s been asking for you,” Root said, realizing Sameen wanted to know. “She’s worried …”

“Pfft,” Sameen said, thinking that was a privilege Azar didn’t really get to have. “Maybe, I’ll just …” she said, looking up the stairs.

“Isabelle made her tea. Would you mind bringing it up?” Root asked, giving her an excuse.

“Yeah,” Sameen said, trying to sound inconvenienced. “Come on, Bear,” she said, not wanting to go alone. Root jerked her head and the dog followed.

* * *

Azar was so happy to see Sameen, that even she got the tone of her mother’s voice when she entered. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Azar said. The doctor left some pain killers on the nightstand and left.

“Root said … she made you tea,” Shaw said, putting the tray down on the table next to the bed where her mother lay, propped up on pillows.

“Thank you,” the injured woman said, smiling. “It was very kind of her to offer her home.”

“Yeah,” Sameen said, shoving her hands in her front pockets. Bear whined as he sat next to Sameen. “Oh, this is Bear. I don’t think you met. He’s ….,” she said and put her hand on his head and petted him affectionately, “….going to stay with you when we leave.”

Bear looked up at Sameen, his eyebrows twitching.

“Where is Ayala?” Azar asked and Sameen was irritated that the mention of the woman’s name still annoyed her.

She took a deep breath and answered; “She went with that detective. I told Fusco to bring her here when she’s done.”

“Thank you,” Azar said because she had a history with that young girl that Sameen had no way of knowing yet. “Sameen, please don’t go …,”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me what to do, okay? You may have spied on my graduations and where I live. But I doubt you were able to send drones into Afghanistan or Iraq … so, you don’t know what I am capable of doing. You’re not in charge, mother. Get it?” she said sternly.

Azar heard everything – especially what Sameen called her. She had been afraid Sameen would never say that word again. “Yes,” she said quietly.

“And besides,” Sameen said as she started to leave the room, “I’ve got Root with me.”

“Yes, you do,” Azar smiled back.


	12. Leaps and Bounds

Shaw may not have realized what she called Azar in the moment, but when she stopped talking, the word hung in the air between them. One look at Bear confirmed that everyone heard it. “Okay, just … _stay_ ,” the woman commanded and Bear looked at Azar because he was certain she didn’t mean him. He waited until Sameen had left the room before he dug under the bed and retrieved his two favorite toys and adeptly threw them up into the guest’s lap.

“Now, what do we have here?” Azar said in the kind of tone that is pleasing to dogs “Is this…?” she asked, the uncanny resemblance hard to miss. “Wherever did you get these?” she smiled. She ran her hand over the stitching on the doll that looked like her daughter. “Hmm,” she said, wondering if the dog hadn’t chewed that part. Bear was looking up at the ceiling and across the room. “I see,” she said, his look confirming his guilt. Then, he remembered that he was the only one allowed to actually bite Sameen and he exposed his teeth and let out a low growl. “I am not here to hurt them, you know,” Azar explained, completely unafraid of the canine. “Come up here and we will talk,” she said, patting the bed next to her. Bear thought about it and decided to hear her out … to be polite.

* * *

“So, what is this?” Shaw asked when she got back downstairs to Root. “We’re in the cone of silence up here?” she said, waving her hands over her head referring to Root’s comment about the Penthouse. “You can’t read my texts, but you can read my thoughts?”

“Oh, that I wish,” smiled Root at the idea. She had been busy on the computer, setting up some things to work in their favor for when they visited the suspicious location in Brooklyn. “We are … protected,” Root said, pulling Sameen to sit near her. “How is she?”

“Azar? How is _Azar_?” Sameen repeated, trying to get the taste of her verbal slip out of her mouth. “She’s good. Resting, she’s resting,” Sameen answered awkwardly. “I …left Bear …,” she said, looking towards the stairs.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Root asked, putting her hand on Sameen’s knee. “You know how he feels about you.”

“She can handle him,” Sameen answered without thinking. _How did she know that? She needed to stop thinking about the woman upstairs. She needed to do something that would block the imposing thoughts from flashing in her head like neon signs. Her longstanding go-to was drinking, but she had something else now; something better._ And she used it.

Before Root could say – I _just coded a program that will help us locate the core of your mother’s machine_ – Shaw had straddled her lap and was kissing her. Hard. It was as if Sameen needed to inhale some of Root’s comme ci comme ça calmness straight into her own lungs. Except, of course, she was doing it as if it were a task that really worked that way. She pulled Root up by her collar, leaned down and kissed her … and came back up, licking her lips as if the soothing calmness was supposed to be imparted by Root’s lip balm. When it wasn’t, she tried again. The feel of Shaw’s lips, then sight of her licking the bottom one, was enough to send Root over the edge. “Okay, this is …very nice,” Root said, but Shaw was disappointed that the tightness was still inside her and she sat back down on the couch, wondering why that didn’t work. “What’s wrong, Sweetie?” Root asked, noticing her lover’s disappointment.

“I just feel …,” Sameen said, her hand rubbing her own chest.

“Tight?” Root asked, describing the feeling perfectly in one word.

“Yes!” Shaw said, amazed at how quickly Root could do that. Not only could she identify the exact thing Sameen was feeling, she had this uncanny knack of being able to normalize it.

“I’m not surprised,” Root said, and put her hand under Shaw’s to stroke her chest soothingly. “This has been a tense time since we came back. Nothing says edgy like your mother visiting,” she summed up.

As soon as Root touched her and spoke such calming words, Sameen started to relax. She couldn’t understand how Root could cause that to happen so easily, but she was grateful. “Thank you …,” Sameen said, jerking her head towards the upstairs bedroom.

“You’re welcome,” Root smiled, leaning her head into Sameen’s shoulder as she continued to touch her chest. “I have dozens of ways I could think of relaxing you. Some of them don’t even include zip ties,” she cooed into Sameen’s ear, making her smile.

“Come here, you,” Root gently said and put her hands on Sameen’s jaw and pulled her into a kiss. This time it worked – and her touch was the most calming thing Shaw had ever felt.

“I shouldn’t be feeling _anything_ , Root,” Shaw explained when she was released and could speak again.

“Well, I don’t know if that’s possible,” Root said thinking about it. “She’s … your mother and I can’t imagine that anyone can shut those feelings down forever.”

“Why not, Root?” Shaw asked seriously. “Isn’t it enough that I mourned her for years? Got angry at her for years? Suffered in her leaving, for years? And now, what? I’m supposed to forget all that. Because she was CIA and sucked at it, by the way,” Shaw said, getting more animated, the more upset she got. Root went to grab for her, but she was already off the couch and pacing.

“She got my father killed!” Shaw decided as she thought about it. “She was a sucky CIA operative. Do you have any idea how much that hurts? That I come from someone who gave into her feelings and got my father murdered and set me on a path of being tossed around from relative to relative?”

Root knew there were no answers to any of those questions and felt nothing but sadness for Sameen having to ask them. “Maybe she did the best she could,” Root hypothesized and it made Shaw’s breathing quicken.

“Yeah, maybe,” Shaw agreed, because she wanted the conversation done with. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Root asked, getting up off the couch anyway. She wanted to point out that she had been working on some things that maybe Sameen wanted to be updated about. Like how they would get into the Brooklyn location or how they would handle things once they got there.

“I thought we were ….?” Shaw said, slowing down only because she trusted Root.

“I thought we’d go over …the plan,” Root suggested gingerly.

“Oh, yeah, sure. We’ll take the long way and you can tell me in the car,” Shaw said, because in her experience, the best plans were no more than five or six bullet points.

From the little time she had to do research, Root was certain that they would be walking into a fire keg of some nasty, angry people who were searching for what they believed was theirs from the woman who stole it. But in spite of that, Root said okay and was about to join Shaw at the elevator when Bear came flying down the stairs.

“I told you to stay with her!” Shaw argued as she pressed the elevator button repeatedly.

“ _We went over with her how that doesn’t ever work, right_?” Bear whined to Root.

“Yes, but it makes her feel better,” Root said, getting her jacket on.

He continued his howling now because he wasn’t exactly sure how to tell them what happened upstairs. So, he barked and ran to the steps – pleased when the two women looked at each other and then followed him. “ _Good girls,_ ” he said and wished he had a treat for them. They were going to need it, he thought, because they were not going to be happy.  
He dutifully led them right to the bedroom where Azar should have been in the bed.

“Where is she?” Root asked in amazement.

“Where the hell is she?” Shaw yelled and went to the table where there was a note. The message was enough to make her shudder. She shoved it at Root to read.  
“ _Dear Sameen, I want to thank you and Samantha for all you have done for me in the short time we have reconnected. I can’t let you go after these men, even with her at your side. They’re very dangerous and I should never have brought them to you. Fondly, Azar.”_

Root read it and looked up at Shaw who was fuming.

“Where did she ….?” Sameen was asking. “She has her shoulder bandaged….” Then she noticed the sliding glass door to the terrace. “We’re up on the top floor!” she yelled. “Didn’t you come with a sense of smell program or something?” she snapped at Bear.

Odd thing was he knew she was right, but he had lost Azar’s scent. Maybe it had to do with that salve she put on his nose when he was up on the bed. He thought it was odd that she got up, went out on the balcony and returned to send him out of the room.

Root’s phone beeped and she looked down at the text from John, just as Sameen pulled back the door and looked over the terrace wall. It was possible …for someone to climb down to the next floor of Root’s apartment …if they were in excellent shape and healthy. Root joined Sameen outside on the terrace. “You don’t think she …?” she asked, looking over the balcony. She looked around to see if she could have gone up, but there was no way.

“This is what’s wrong. Not only does she have to come back and be a pain in the ass, she has to be so goddamn stubborn and get herself killed,” Sameen said and kept looking around when they heard Bear barking. “She is so aggravating!” she declared as she walked the length of the balcony.

Suddenly, Bear was sitting outside, barking at the sliding glass door. Azar had been in the bedroom waiting for them to go out on the balcony. Then, she simply put Bear out there and left.

The couple ran to the door and opened it. “ _In my defense,_ ” the dog wailed to Root, “ _I heard how nice Shaw spoke to that woman and didn’t want to bite her_.”

Root would have chastised him that there was no excuse, but the commotion at the bedroom door inside was grabbing her attention. “I’ll deal with you later,” she warned Bear as she went to see what the problem was.

Sameen was pulling furiously on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She turned in astonishment to Root. “She …locked …us …in!” she said and went to grab for her gun, which was downstairs. “I’m going to kill her! Aarrgh!”

Root was already texting Isabelle in the kitchen and then John, who had said he was on his way over.

* * *

Ten minutes later, as Shaw yelled from the top of her lungs and tried to take the door off its hinges to no avail, John showed up.

First, he found Isabelle safe, but out cold on the living room couch where someone had placed her after rendering her unconscious. Then, he followed the screaming and found the bedroom door that was securely locked from the outside. “Hold on, Shaw,” he yelled when Root said if he didn’t hurry, Sameen was tying the sheets together. “It’s booby trapped,” he said of the intricate design of the contraption that was keeping the door fortified.

“Get us out of here!” Shaw yelled, which did nothing to hurry John along.

Reese worked gingerly to release the various locks. He was used to working under difficult conditions and he finally tuned Shaw out so he could figure out the sequence of unraveling the device. “There!” he said when the latch finally unlocked.

The door flew open and out came the Persian firecracker who had been duped by the woman she had just deemed an incompetent CIA agent. “I am going to …..,” Shaw repeated for the umpteenth time.

“If it’s any consolation, Shaw,” Reese said, looking around. “She had help.”

She stared at him hard as she figured out who he meant. Her eyes grew wide with fury.

It didn’t help knowing that. Not one bit.


	13. Mother Lode

In the past twenty four hours, the couple had returned from vacation to find a woman claiming to be Sameen’s mother. They accepted her invitation and went to see her at the hotel, where she led them to believe she poisoned Fusco on purpose to gain their assurance they wouldn’t shoot her. Then, Shaw returned to subdue the bodyguard and kidnap this woman, bringing her to her apartment for her own style of interrogation. But this was unlike any other mission Sameen had ever been involved in. She couldn’t seem to carry out any of the threats she issued and in the end, released her captives. Then, as luck would have it, someone else carried out the threat and shot Azar. Now Sameen was left to taking her mother into safety where she repaid her by escaping.  
Shaw was angered beyond words.

* * *

Shaw had been the kind of marine that rarely made mistakes, but when she did, she admitted them. She didn’t take it well, but she didn’t fight it. She was – as her commanding officers once cited, ‘her own worse critic’. This is why she was beside herself in anger that she had not given thought to the fact that Azar would escape or that Ayala would finish at the police station and come right there for her.

“So stupid!” she said, banging her palm against her forehead as Reese talked about how ingenious the door trap had been. “Really, Reese?” she finally commented and he stopped his spiel.

“What do we do next?” Root asked Shaw, letting her know whatever it was, she was ready.

Sameen immediately got it. She looked at those chestnut eyes that smiled even when Root was being serious. “First,” Sameen said slowly. “We get them. They’ve just made our job easier because they’re going to lead us to the Russian mob or the machine.”

“Not a problem,” Root said with the enthusiasm one has when they did something they know will impress the love of their life. “I know the doctor in the emergency room. For a sizeable donation, he was willing to include a dissolvable tracking device in a certain patient’s procedure on her shoulder. Voila!” Root said, pulling up an app on her phone that showed Azar’s current location. “She’s back at the hotel.”

“I’ll go keep an eye on her; you two get some sleep,” John suggested because it had been a very long day.

“She’s got to sleep, too,” Root pointed out and Sameen agreed.

Root installed the BEAR app on his phone that would allow him to keep tabs on Azar. He parked himself downstairs near the hotel so he could watch if the pair left. Root knew that Sameen needed her rest, too, so she insisted they lay down for a couple of hours. Sameen fought it, but her body gave in when Root stroked her back with long tender fingers that swept back and forth. “Just a couple of hours,” were Sameen’s last words before giving into the slumber. Root wasn’t far behind her as she held onto Sameen and drifted off, too.

Hell may not know any fury like a daughter double crossed, but that was going to pale in comparison to Root when she felt Sameen’s body shaking from the nightmare that was going on. “Don’t worry, Sweetie,” Root whispered as she kissed Sameen’s forehead. “I’m going to take care of this for you.”

Root was the perfect antidote to what was ailing Sameen. She was going to build up her bruised ego, help her deal with the invasion of her mother into her life, and assist her in settling a score. Root not only had every confidence in Sameen; she also was certain she could help her accomplish anything she wanted to do.

* * *

Root woke up to an empty bed and shot up; concerned Sameen had gone off on her own. But Shaw was sitting in the chair, readying her weapons. “Oh, thank God,” Root let out and Sameen realized what she had been afraid of.  
“Did you think …?” Shaw asked, coming over the bed.  
“I was ..afraid …,” Root explained.  
Shaw understood what the look on her girlfriend’s face was. It wasn’t a stretch to think that Sameen would get up and take off, doing everything on her own. “I ..eh ….,” she tried to put into words. “Wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t … you know …. Unless I told you first.”  
Root was so proficient at speaking Shaw-ese, that she could easily fill in those spaces between Sameen’s thoughts. “Thank you,” Root said, and hugged her. “So, we’re a team,” Root professed happily.

“Don’t push it,” Shaw said, trying to keep her lone wolf personality in tack …even though what Root said was true.

They dressed, checked in with John who assured them there had been no activity other than Azar and her bodyguard walking around in the hotel room.

“I’m personally going to punch that woman in the face,” Sameen said, upon hearing the bodyguard was there.

Root smiled and patted her shoulder the way you do when your partner announces with confidence that they will win the next bout.

* * *

Isabelle expressed her concern about the element they were letting in the building when she awoke from her own slumber and found herself on Root’s couch. “I have to call my husband,” she explained, even though cooking for Shaw often kept her late at work. “But I’ll start pancakes,” she assured her employer.

Bear returned from his walk with Daan without his usual cocky strike back into the apartment. Instead, he went and sulked in the corner; guilt ridden over what had happened. It was a look even Shaw had come to know.

“Alright, look,” she said to the door in a hushed tone as Root went into the kitchen to talk with Daan. “It’s not your fault. I am the one who brought the crazy woman back here, so it’s on me. Besides, I should have warned you she was a former CIA and would know how to knock out your sense of smell. So, don’t go beating yourself up,” said the woman who beat herself up regularly.

Bear put his head on her knee and looked up with gratitude. He really did feel badly that he failed to keep the woman there. ‘Bite her once for me,’ he barked, but of course, Sameen had no idea what he said.

* * *

The couple met up with Reese and joined him as they followed the car that Azar and her bodyguard were in. It led them to the location that Root’s program had suggested deep in the heart of Brooklyn.

“What do you think she’d going to do?” Reese asked Sameen out of respect, both since it was her mother and because she was in charge.

“Mess things up royally is my guess,” Sameen said and then proceeded to give Root and Reese instructions.

* * *

Sameen knew that Azar felt badly for what happened to her father years before and also that she came back into her life just as the Russian mob renewed its interest in where the machine was. She was going to give herself up and or give them the machine. Either way, they would kill her. The trio kept their distance, but Reese had binoculars and reported that although the bodyguard drove there, only Azar was getting out of the car.

Sameen instinctively knew Azar probably did something to the woman who drove her there. Sure enough, as they passed the car that the two other women had come in, the young bodyguard sat lifeless in the front seat. “So predictable,” Sameen said under her breath. She knew what was going on with Azar – her emotions were driving her actions and that always spelled disaster in these types of situations.

The factory was set back behind a fence that apparently presented no hindrance to Azar who simply walked through it. Reese texted Fusco to update him, which both pleased and upset the good detective. “Could be bad,” Reese told him and warned him that he wasn’t sure what they were walking into, but that Root seemed confident she had disabled cameras and alarms and Shaw was marching forward like she was on a mission.

“I swear,” Fusco whispered across his desk to Joss Carter, “…if she makes it out of there alive, I’m going to lock her up for a week!”

“Just a week?” Joss asked, getting the details of what was going on.

“Yeah,” Fusco reasoned. “I should get through the paperwork from her other messes in a week. Then, I’ll release her so we can start all over again.” With that, Fusco got his gun and got up from his desk. When he turned, Joss was right alongside him.

“Don’t tell me you thought you were going alone on this!” she said, her hand on her hip. “That’s my boyfriend riding shotgun on this mission.”

Joss was outside before Fusco even got out the first word of his protest. “Women!” he finally said, getting in the car with his partner. “Always got to be in …,” he continued until Joss shot him a look and he stopped.

* * *

Reese opened the trunk and pulled out a duffle bag. “Thought we might need these,” he said of the heavy arsenal which included a long range assault rifle that Shaw ran her hand over before slinging it over her back. Her admiration for Reese went off the charts. She shoved a USP compact handgun in her jacket and a Glock in the back of her pants. Then she handed Root a Smith and Wesson 3914 and a Glock. “Gotta keep one hand free,” Root said as she held one gun and accessed her phone with the other.  
Shaw waited for her two buddies to join her. Based on the thermal readouts on Root’s device, there were six men inside. Azar’s GPS signal showed she was walking at an even pace to the center of that room. Shaw told Reese and Root to take the flanks while she sneaked in the front entrance.

“Well, what do we have here?” Shaw heard a man say to the shorter woman walking into his warehouse. “I take it my sniper was not as good a shot as he claimed to be,” he laughed and the men near him joined in. Then, they surrounded the area where Azar stood.

“You will find my driver unconscious in a car outside. Leave her alone and I will give you what you want,” Sameen heard her mother explain. She noted how calm and determined the woman sounded.

“Or what? You came right into my establishment. I could shoot you for trespassing and no one would blame me,” he retorted. Again, his men laughed as if this was his opening act.

“I foolishly thought I had taken care of your organization, but I see like weeds you have reappeared and grown without restraint,” the older woman said.

“Is seems being foolish is a trait of yours, because here you are with nothing to offer me other than your life, which does not seem to be worth much,” the leader said.

“Okay, this guy is starting to piss me off,” Shaw said in a low voice, but loud enough that her counterparts could hear her.

“Steady, Shaw,” Reese said, knowing smack talk was part of this.

It was not a wise decision for Azar to walk into this situation and the trio knew that. She was making their job even harder by antagonizing the man in charge. Or was she?

“We want our program back. We know you’re using it to track you long lost daughter. We know you found her. So we will let you live happily ever after …. After we have our chip back,” he said and his tone got very serious.

“Let’s face it, Petrov,” Azar said, knowing exactly who she was dealing with, “You’re not letting me walk out of here alive. Which I get, but I am not leaving here empty handed.”

“You want a nice burial?” he asked, smugly.

“You leave my daughters alone,” Azar said and Shaw jerked her head.

“Did she …just …?” Reese was the first one to ask.

It took Shaw only seconds to get what was going on. “Yes, she did,” she said, reserving her shock for later.

“That mean nothing to me. One is an ineffective bodyguard, while the other one …. Now, she’s someone I think I would like to get to know,” Petrov said in a salacious manner.

Reese could have seen that coming. Shaw gritted her teeth as she listened. Azar didn’t even flinch. But Root lost it.

“You sonova bitch!” she said and would have marched in there, guns blazing if Fusco hadn’t arrived and pulled her back where no one could see or hear her.

“Hey, Nutter Butter,” he said, pushing Root back in her place. “We need all the hands we can get and we can’t have you going off halfcocked at these numbskulls.”

“Did you hear what he just insinuated about Sameen?” Root asked in a ‘are you crazy’ kind of tone, still unconvinced that she shouldn’t shoot him in a very sensitive area of the body.

“Yes, and he’s messing with her mother down there, so let’s push personal feeling aside and keep our cool,” Fusco suggested.

Root was able to take that advice in, which Reese could hear when she settled down. “Ask Fusco if the cavalry came with him?” he asked.

“Anyone else with you?” Root asked Fusco.

“Yeah, I told the entire Squad Room I was going off to help my friends, Ms. Congeniality, you and Captain America and they all asked if they could come,” he responded, annoyed that his friends were in danger.

“No one,” Root answered back.

“Not true,” Lionel added. “Carter is outside with the bodyguard.”

John wasn’t surprised that Carter came, but he was happy she was outside.

“We okay here?” Lionel asked Root, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Root agreed, not happy, but not wanting to endanger her friends.

Someone should have thought to give that lecture to Shaw. After hearing a few more derogatory remarks about what Petrov would like to do to Azar, she snapped into action.

Reese, Root and Fusco all turned when they heard Shaw yell – “Get your filthy hands off that woman!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you suspect who the bodyguard (Ayala) really was?


	14. No Going Back

“Oh, no!” Root said when she saw where her girlfriend was. Once again, Fusco was there to hold her back.

“We need to help her, not get us all killed,” he whispered to her as John assessed their options.

“No deal,” Root smiled, pulling away. “I’m going to her.”

Fusco and Reese took aim at the three remaining men that Shaw had not shot by the time she reached the center of the room. Petrov admired how fast this woman was with a gun, but he still had the upper hand. He grabbed Azar and put his gun to her head.

“You shot my men in the kneecaps?” he asked, amazed they were lying there moaning and not dead.

“I get in trouble if I kill anyone,” Shaw said truthfully. “Of course, I’m willing to take that chance.”

“Sameen, I came here to avoid all of this. Please just go,” Azar pleaded, not even fighting her captor. Some part of her believed she deserved the short end of the stick in this ordeal – for all the pain she had caused.

“And let Petrov have all the fun. I don’t think so,” Shaw said, holding her gun on him.

“You have help, I see,” he noticed when the other three men were also injured. “I hope your friends don’t think I run a six man operation here.”

As Reese and Fusco started to make their way around to the main area, they were met with armed soldiers of Petrov’s. Root had attempted to get to Shaw, but was diverted by a barricade. Still wearing the earpiece that John and Sameen also wore, she heard a robotic voice telling her where to shoot.

“ _Six o’clock, eight o’clock, twelve o’clock_ ,” the voice instructed and she shot through the walls at the designate hours. She could hear the bodies slump over and moaning as she took down each one with accuracy.

“Now, that’s a neat trick, John,” she said, but he was too busy to comment.

“My men have this place well protected, Ms. Shaw. So, it would seem you are out of options, too. Like mother, like daughter,” Petrov laughed.

“Let her go and I promise not to kill you so you can stand trial and spend the rest of your life in jail,” Sameen said, inching closer.

“I don’t know if you are as crazy as your mother, here, but look around, sweetheart, you got nothing,” the sinister mobster noted.

Root was creeping closer and closer, but could not get a clear shot. Every time she aimed at Petrov from behind the containers that lined the place, he moved Azar in the way. He kept taunting Shaw, but she wouldn’t bite. Again, Root heard the message in her ear; “ _ **N** ovember, **O** scar, **W** hiskey_” … and she shot.

There were perhaps a hundred algorithms running on the possible outcomes and that exact moment, had the highest percentage of a positive outcome.  Root hit Petrov with a direct hit to the forehead - millimeters from Azar’s head. Azar was so close; she could hear the bullet flying past her. She stood there paralyzed, waiting to feel the pain, but there was none. Shaw didn’t take her eyes off of Petrov as he jerked and fell. She kept her gun aimed in case that was simply a case of friendly fire.

“Well,” Root said to herself, because she wasn’t quite certain why she acted so quickly on that NATO phonetic alphabet. John hadn’t even gone over that in his brief instructions and Shaw certainly never said they would use it. It was only in the aftermath, and when she walked over to Shaw, did she realize how close she came to shooting her mother.

The sirens outside assured Sameen that Fusco had come with backup.

“It’s okay,” Root said, coming up alongside of Shaw. She was assuring herself as she was her girlfriend.

“Reese and Fusco?” Shaw asked, making sure her friends were okay before she put her weapon down.

“We’re good,” she heard Reese said in her earpiece.

“Nice shot,” Shaw said to Root and her arms were still extended like steel rods.

“Yeah, thanks,” Root said, still a little shaken by how little room for error there was in those instructions.

* * *

The cops swarmed the place as Reese and Fusco joined the couple in the center of the room. Azar waited for Sameen to approach her. “Mission accomplished?” she asked her mother.

Azar looked around at the injured men and the dead body behind her. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” Shaw said and much to everyone’s surprise, most especially Azar’s, she hauled off and punched her, straightening out the collar on her jacket as Azar fell to the floor.

“Well, I bet that settles some things,” Root said as she watched her girlfriend deck her own mother. Fusco and Reese were surprised, but Root understood this was Shaw’s way of evening out the score.

“What did you do?” Ayala yelled as she left Joss Carter’s side and ran to the unconscious woman.

With lightning speed, Sameen grabbed the woman before she could bend down to Azar. With one hand, Shaw pulled her up and said. “You and I are going to talk later.” Then, she released Ayala who went to tend their mother.

Reese looked around to make sure that there could be a reasonable explanation why the CEO of BEAR and her bodyguards were in a warehouse taking down the Russian mob. He leaned over to Fusco and suggested they think quickly on this one. But it was Joss who came in to save the day. They heard her explain;

_Azar’s car was parked on the street with what appeared to be a dead body which sparked a call to the police station. These people had lured a Ms. Azar Monir there with her bodyguard and kidnapped her inside. Monir was former CIA and so the department was going to have to keep this very quiet. Of course, since Monir was related to Ms. Shaw, of course Reese and Root went to assist her. Ms. Groves as well as her security staff are trained and authorized to carry weapons._

“And remember, Ms. Monir is former CIA, so we have to keep this one under wraps,” Joss said again to the commanding officer of the Brooklyn precinct. Then, turning to her friends, she asked; “Do you think next time you could all carry on your vigilante crime fighting in Manhattan where I actually know people?”

* * *

“Thank you,” Shaw said to everyone as they walked away to get their stories straight. “Especially you,” she added when it was only Root there.

“I must admit, I don’t know if I would have had the nerve to take that shot if it weren’t for Reese giving me those instructions,” Root admitted.

“Reese told you? He was on the other side of the building,” Shaw pointed out.

“In my earpiece. Didn’t you hear him? Maybe you were too focused,” Root proposed as they started to walk away. “I don’t know how he got the instructions to synthesize in male and female voices though.”

“What?” Shaw asked because Root had just lost her.

“The instructions to shoot through the wall and to take that shot at that exact moment - all came through the earpiece in a synthesized robotic voice,” Root said again.

“Reese never said …,” Shaw reflected on what she thought might be the latest security gadget from BEAR.

Azar was standing now, with the help of Ayala and overheard Root. “It’s happening,” she said, holding her jaw as the pain radiated through her entire head.

“Actually, mother, I think you mean … it’s over,” Shaw snapped at the woman who was still talking. “You could have gotten her hurt,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“I can’t stop this now, Sameen,” Azar said and she sounded regretful.

“We … Root and I …. Just stopped this, okay?” Shaw said, insulted that they weren’t getting the credit for ending this fiasco.

“You don’t understand,” Azar said, her voice much shakier than it was when the mobster had his gun to her head.

“Yeah? Well, this is what I understand,” Shaw said, walking back to her mother. “Ever since you came back into my life, my friends have been in danger. So, you’ll excuse me if I don’t suggest we go to dinner now. I’m done. You endangered Root, mother. And the world may not need people like you and me, but it definitely needs Root.”

The heartfelt, painful speech made tears well up in Root’s eyes. Sameen was protecting her in a way far beyond what she had ever done in the past. She took Sameen’s hand when she walked back to her. She wanted to plead with her to please think of a way to work this out with her family. Shaw went to walk away, but Root couldn’t move. It was as if Root knew Azar had more to say.

“It’s not about me, anymore, Sameen. Root has been chosen,” Azar explained.

Thinking it was a ploy to get her to stay, Sameen turned back one more time. “It was never about you! And Root was chosen long before you got here … by me!”

Azar could see that her lack of details was hindering the explanation of what was going on.

“The voices you heard, Samantha. They were not from your friend, Mr. Reese,” the woman explained, her speech slowed because her jaw hurt. “It was the Machine. It has chosen you.”


	15. Omniscient

“That is one nutty family. I guess it’s better than her shooting her mom,” Fusco reasoned after witnessing Shaw.

“Yeah,” John man-of-many-words said.

“Well, I for one hope we can put this behind us because, you and me, Fusco, are going to be doing paperwork till Taylor’s outta college if these three keep it up,” Joss reasoned.

“You know who I think should be brought up to date of this?” John said, but was looking away to give Fusco time to figure it out. He was thinking Shaw could use all the help she could get with this situation.

There was silence while Joss and John waited for Lionel to think it through. Finally, the lightbulb went off. “Hey, that’s fine by me, but I’m not telling her. You’re so smart, you recommend she go back. Didn’t she just shoot her gun? Don’t you have a company policy about sending them into the shrink?”

Joss had to admit, Fusco had just one upped Reese. 

“Well,” John said and then said nothing.

“Oh, Fusco, I think you got him there,” Joss laughed and the two detectives walked ahead while John tried to get out of that one.

* * *

“What do you mean - _chosen_?” both Root and Shaw asked; only one of them was wrathfully irritated.

Azar looked around to make sure no one could hear her. One detective from the local precinct was asking the FBI rep – “Didn’t we hear something about these two before?”

“This is not the place I had hoped to explain this to you,” Azar said and Shaw went to give her a snarky remark, but she realized her mother wasn’t talking to her; she was speaking to Root.

“Okay, hold it right there, _Florence Henderson_ ,” Shaw snapped and put her body in between Root and her mother. “I trust you as far as I can ...oh, no wait, I can throw you. I don’t trust you. So, if you have something to say, put it in a thank you note to Root. The one you’re going to send that says – thanks for saving my sorry ass.”

“I am very grateful,” Azar said, looking past her daughter to Root. “But you had help, didn’t you, Samantha?”

“See? This is one of the things that is so annoying about you. I just told you to put it in a card. Then, take that card and ….” Shaw was saying, trying to find words that fit the level of frustration she felt. This woman was nothing short of obstinate.

“She has a point,” Shaw heard someone say and when she found out it was Root, she was dumbfounded.

“If you will let me explain, but not here,” Azar said because they had all given statements about what happened and she wanted to go before there were any inconsistencies noted.

“Sure, how about you and my half-sister there come by for tea and we’ll sing Kumbaya and trade war stories,” Shaw practically spit out.

“Good,” Azar said without flinching. “I hope you don’t mind, Samantha, but your Penthouse would be the best place.”

“That’s up to Sameen,” Root said because let’s face it, she was born ready to be the perfect girlfriend for Shaw. As curious as the tech genius was about what was happening, she would sustain that thirst for Shaw’s satisfaction.

“No way in hell,” Shaw bellowed – spacing out each word to emphasize how emphatic she was, but then looked at Root. She wasn’t saying a word, but Sameen could tell there was something in those eyes that said she was …hoping …hoping Shaw would agree to this insane meeting. As the idea of ‘compromise’ squirmed its way up and around Shaw, the expression of disgust appeared on her face. Shaw’s head twisted back and forth between Root and her mother. She instinctively knew what Root wanted. “Oh man!” she said in revulsion. Then, to save the tiny piece of dignity she had left, she turned to Root. “An hour? Can you get whatever you need in an hour?”

“Yes,” Root said and her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Fine,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in the air. “Worst family reunion ever.”

Root smiled to Azar and Ayala and then ran to catch up with Shaw. She took her hand and pulled her stiff body into hers. “Let’s just see what this all about,” she suggested to Shaw.

“What _this_ is all about is that my mother is insane from being in hiding and she thinks that bodyguard is her daughter and that a program is capable of picking out a person to become an analogue interface,” Shaw stammered.

Root was quite impressed with the terminology. “Look at you, Sameen Shaw,” she said, smiling warmly.

“What? I can be a nerd, too,” Shaw said.

“I can’t wait to see you in glasses. Do you have glasses? We have to get you glasses because that would be so hot,” Root gushed as if they were out on a shopping spree.

"I'm not listening," Shaw said, shaking her head.

* * *

“Well, here they all come,” Fusco said of the quartet of women walking towards them. “Can we give you a lift somewhere, Ms. Monir?”

“They’re coming with us,” Shaw said none too happy.

“What are you having like a family reunion? No weapons, Shaw,” Fusco said, feeling he was already knee deep in paperwork.

Shaw just turned and looked at him.

“What’s the deal, Shaw?” John asked.

“My … Azar wants to talk to Root …about her program. I think Root is in it for the techie talk. I want a hot bath, a drink, and something to drown out the sound of that woman’s voice,” Shaw explained. “I am giving her an hour.”

Reese didn’t say anything, because, well, he’s Reese. He waited while Azar and Ayala to join Root in the back seat while Shaw drove up front with him. When they arrived at the Penthouse, Reese opened the door and held his hand out for Azar. He figured, CIA agent or not, the woman had been through a lot.

“Dude, are you … ,” Shaw barked, but wasn’t sure what he was doing. “Don’t.”

“Okay, Shaw,” Reese smiled his shortest smile after helping the woman out of the car. She had an injured shoulder, had been shot at and was going to have to deal with Shaw. He felt sorry for her.

“She always this bossy?” Ayala asked John. He didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if she was really related to Sameen, but he knew where his allegiance was.

* * *

“You might want to start with apologizing to the woman who is the best chef around,” Shaw said when they got upstairs, and stopped to look at Ayala. “And we’re counting…..” she said, looking at her watch.

True to her word, she took Bear, who was growling at the returned company, upstairs and ran a hot bath. Root could hardly keep her mind on what Azar was trying to tell her because she wanted to be upstairs with Shaw, body and soul. Mostly body.

Azar explained that she found the program on the chip she stole, copied the file the government needed and kept the rest for herself. The fact that foreign agents came after her only proved that it had value. In the lull between the time they killed her husband, and Sameen was in high school, the woman learned all she could about the program and what it could do. As far as she was concerned, it kept her connected to her daughter in a variety of ways. She figured out that the program’s purpose of being aligned with the infrastructure of a given area could help her keep tabs on her daughter. The people she stole if from never suspected that she found out its use, but they never stopped looking for her. She went oversees for a while and learned how to code programs. “That is where I met Ayala’s father,” Azar said even though Root didn’t ask. “Imagine, a Muslim woman who has a Christian daughter and an Jewish daughter,” she laughed and Root simple looked back. She looked hard at the younger woman, looking for the resemblance.

She saw none.

“The program would wait for me to enter data; where Sameen would be, what was going on. But when she was in Iraq, it asked me if I wanted to circumvent the channels and order a rescue helicopter. It started to communicate with me. It was doing so based on the variables I put in, but it was beginning to initiate the communication. I hesitated, until a red warning sign came up that time was running out. I pressed yes and the machine somehow sent orders to send in a chopper at the exact time Sameen needed one,” the older woman explained.

Root took note that Ayala seemed to know all of this because she sat there expressionless. “Who else knows about this program?” Root asked.

Azar smiled back at her. “I have the aid of a couple of tech guys who don’t truly understand what they’re working on. The program was getting too much for me to handle. It started to leave me instructions in the morning. It told me to find you,” she said.

“Me?” Root asked. “What do you think it wants me for?”

“I don’t know, but my guess is that it has outgrown my capabilities. It wants, perhaps, someone who truly will understand what it is capable of doing. Now, I am … the messenger,” she said slowly.

“And that doesn’t worry you? That you’re taking instructions from an AI and you don’t know what it wants?” Root asked astutely.

“I have been reading up about you and your uncle, Harold Finch. Quite honestly, Ms. Groves, I can’t think of two better people who could handle this program,” Azar explained. She sounded like the person who runs the second leg of the relay race, and is about to hand it off to the last person.

Root wanted nothing more than the short version of this story and she got it. Thankfully, Azar knew not to push Sameen by overstaying her welcome. So, she announced that she thought Root had enough information for now and that she would be in touch, if Root wanted her to be.

“It spoke to you directly today, Samantha. I didn’t instruct it to do that. That means something, don’t you think?” Azar said, getting up and thanking Root again for saving her life.

Root walked them to the door, happy they were leaving long before the sixty minutes were up. “I _have_ to talk this over with Sameen, of course,” Root said.

“You don’t _have_ to,” Azar gently corrected her. “But I am counting on that fact that you _want_ to.”

Root found herself both admiring the woman’s bluntness and wondering how Sameen would handle it.

“Can I safely assume that the GPS chip you had a doctor place in me when they stitched me up will dissolve on its own?” Azar asked.

‘ _She’s good_ ,’ Root thought to herself. “Yes, by tonight.”

She walked the women to the elevator and said goodbye.

* * *

Root ran up the stairs, praying Sameen was still enjoying her bath. Bolting through the door and out of breath, Root tried to appear nonchalant as she walked in. “Oh, you’re still in here?” she asked, as if she were surprised.

Sameen rolled her eyes and looked at Bear. “Pitiful,” she said of Root’s act.

“They’re gone,” Root said, undressing.

“Good,” Sameen said, putting the facecloth back over her eyes. “Oh, Root!” she yelled when the woman slide into the tub across from her.

“It’s big enough,” Root said, grateful the water was still warm and the bubbles where plentiful.

“Fine,” Shaw said, moving over to accommodate Root.

“Thank you … you know …. ,” Shaw said, the cloth back in place.

“For saving your mother?” Root asked, sliding to get closer.

“Yes,” Shaw answered.

“You can repay me,” Root suggested and Sameen was surprised that the payback was so soon.

“I can? How?” Shaw asked, taking the covering off to look at her tub-mate.

“Just put these on?” Root all but pleaded as she placed a pair of dark framed glasses on her lover.

“Seriously, Root?” Shaw whined as she allowed the glasses to be placed on her head. “The things I do for you….”

“Talk nerdy to me,” Root joked and ran her hands up the slippery sides of Sameen.

“Oh, Root…..,” Sameen winched at the pun.


	16. Pressure

Root’s giddiness and fondness of all things nerdy was enough to soften Shaw’s mood after the long day. It almost made her forget that her mother wanted to talk about an artificial intelligence messing with Root.

“So, does my mother want to set you up on a date with her all seeing computer?” Shaw asked, as they dressed after their bath.

“She didn’t actually say. She told me I had enough to think about,” Root reported. Root never had enough to think about.

“She is one pain-in-the-ass woman. I think she was trying to mess with my head about that bodyguard,” Sameen shared, thinking back about it.

“I didn’t see any resemblance, but she does seem very attached,” Root noted and then wished she hadn’t shared that thought.

“So, what do you want to do about all of this?” Sameen asked, ignoring that comment.

“Well,” Root said, thinking about it. “I am very curious as to what spoke to me while we were at that warehouse today. I definitely heard instructions. Now, that might have been some kind of wireless connection with our earpieces, but neither you nor John heard it. So, I would at least like to understand how they did it. But, if it means it would bother you seeing Azar again, then I won’t die from that curiosity,” Root said, allowing Sameen an out if she needed it.

“Maybe we could just go to work tomorrow and see if she doesn’t blow the world up, okay?” Sameen said, too confused by all the choices to pick one.

“Of course,” Root said, kissing the tip of Shaw’s nose before she could pull away.

Sameen had never met anyone as calm and agreeable as Root. No matter what came their way, Root seemed to be able to handle it. _An MIA mother returns_? No problem. _An MIA mother returns and announces she was CIA and didn’t run away_? Great. _An MIA mom, former CIA who didn’t abandon them, but did steal an omnipotent program that could save or ruin whole societies_? Let’s have them to tea.

Yep, it seemed to Sameen, Root was willing and able to handle whatever situation they got into. Except maybe the one Sameen was met with the next morning.

* * *

While Shaw ate her third helping of pancakes and sausage, Root went in the other room to answer Reese’s call. Sameen was too busy lecturing Bear on the fact that the ‘ _other furry people_ ’ – because he looked funny at her when she said _dogs_ – might make fun if he brought his dolls to the park, but he barked that his self-confidence could handle that.

“I think it might be a good idea. Did I mention Fusco recommended it,” Reese explained not wanting to bear the brunt if this wasn’t a good idea.

“I don’t know, John,” Root hesitated because in theory it made sense that it might help for Sameen to talk to her therapist, but in practice it could be a bloody mess.

“Policy dictates she has to,” John offered. “Kind of,” he added of the rather loose policy.

“Wouldn’t _we_ have to go then?” the ever logical Root inquired.

“It’s … uhm, actually by security level, so ...technically, you and I are above that,” John haltingly explained about the weak loophole in the rule.

“I am going to ask her if she wants to,” Root decided.

“Oh, that’s not going to be good,” she heard John mutter, but agreed.

“Ask me if I want to do what?” Shaw said cautiously when she joined Root in the other room, a cinnamon bun in her mouth, still in mid-bite. Root told John she’d see him later and turned to her love, smiling adorably. “Oh, that’s not good,” Shaw said, eating.

“Sweetie,” Root said, taking Shaw’s arm which only confirmed her opinion that this was not a good thing. “That was John. He was just reminding me of that policy we have? You know, for the security team? If they shoot their gun, they’re supposed to get checked out by Dr. Campbell. I sort of told him we need to revisit it ...”

Shaw interrupted her immediately. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Root!” Shaw bellowed, looking around for a place to wipe her hands as Isabelle rushed to hand her a linen napkin to use. The housekeeper had begged Isabelle to please provide Sameen with something when eating sticky foods; or _any_ food. “That is one stupid ass rule, if you ask me,” Shaw complained and Root was about to agree.

“Well then, I’ll speak to ….,” Root attempted to say, but Sameen cut her off with an exaggerated sweep of her hand.

“But if it’s a rule, I guess we can’t do anything about it,” said the woman to the CEO who could alter it before they entered the building that morning. “Fine!” Shaw rolled her eyes and threw her hands up as if surrendering to Root’s insistence. “I’ll go!”

Root stared at Isabelle, who overhead the conversation and was confused. “Ah,” Root finally said, getting that Sameen wanted to go, but could only do so under the guise that it was absolutely required of her. “Oh, my little rule follower,” Root smiled as

Sameen came back in, complaining what an aggravating thing it was to have to do this and how she wasn’t going to enjoy it, nor would she talk if she didn’t want to.

Root smiled and nodded her head the whole time, thinking Sameen very much wanted to talk. She grabbed Sameen by the arm and thanked her for agreeing until they could do something about that darn policy.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sameen responded, playing the victim of this terrible deed.

Root knew a part of Sameen must have wanted to go; otherwise wild horses wouldn’t get her there.

* * *

They arrived for work that morning; Root ready to talk to Harold about what had happened, Shaw ready to be miserable about having agreed to go to see Iris.

“Are you okay?” Janine was asking as she rushed to Shaw’s side. “We heard about it on the news.”

“Yeah,” Sameen said, downplaying all the attention.

“Next time you need help,” Martine said, leaning over the cubicle wall, “…you call me.”

“Thanks,” Shaw said, knowing Martine was someone you’d want on your side.

“Oh, it says you have an appointment now,” the newly appointed administrative assistant said to Sameen.

_Root promoted her before they left on vacation and only while they away did she break the news to Sameen that she was returning to having her very own assistant. “She was born for this job,” the CEO said in her defense. They agreed that Shaw could shoot her if she got on her nerves which was another of way of saying … as soon as they got back._

“Oh geez,” Sameen said of the impending visit. She stood back up and when she realized the smile of her face might contradict her groaning, she paused. “It’s that …stupid policy. I …shot my gun,” she said, as if she was simply doing her duty. “They really should amend that. Martine, let’s add that to the next Security Meeting,” Shaw suggested as she continued her poorly played act of being a martyr.

“I’ll do it!” Janine yelled and immediately wrote it down.

“You know it’s not an actual policy, right?” Martine said in a low voice to Janine because no one else had ever had to do it before Sameen arrived.

* * *

Sameen kept up the annoyed expression as she passed by the secretary’s desk outside of Iris’ office. “You can’t ….,” and she was going to tell Shaw she could not go in without an appointment, but Sameen took it as an opportunity to bolster her defense.

“I know, I know. But I have to. It’s required by some stupid policy that, by the way, will be dealt with at our next departmental meeting. Making people see a therapist when they shoot their gun! Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous?” Sameen asked, but didn’t wait for the answer. As was her way, she simply walked into Iris’ office as if the therapist had been waiting for her.

Iris was not waiting for her because no one told her Sameen was coming. But that didn’t stop Iris from breaking out in a big smile when she saw her most interesting patient. “Hello, Sameen,” she said, getting up from the desk and greeting her.

“Hi,” Shaw said and flopped on the couch.

Iris was used to Shaw’s impromptu visits, but they had become fewer. She took this as a good sign that Sameen was adjusting to her job and getting along well with the others. Secretly though, Iris missed the woman. “How … was vacation?” Iris asked wondering if Sameen was there officially or just dropping in.

“ _Vacation_?” Shaw asked, in the tone you use when it’s the last thing you thought the person would ask about.

“Oh,” Iris said, hoping she hadn’t said the wrong thing. “I thought … you were … away?”

“ _Away_?” Shaw asked as if they were speaking two different languages. “Oh, yeah. We were away. It was nice. Sun, beaches, alcho …. It was nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Iris said, not sure if she should grab her notepad and pen. Silence filled the room as she sat back and straightened out her skirt. As usual, Sameen moved on the couch as if someone was poking her, trying to get comfortable in an uncomfortable setting.

As many times as Shaw threatened the woman not to start with a bunch of psych questions, she wished she’d just get started now. In fact, it occurred to Shaw that Iris seemed almost surprised she was there.

“You know I shot my gun, right?” Sameen asked, helping Iris do her job … better.

“Oh, I didn’t … no,” Iris said because she had not seen the news, nor had she seen her detective boyfriend who would have been complaining about it.

“Reese didn’t tell you? The news, maybe? Surely, Fusco was carrying on about it?” Shaw prompted the woman, but each question was met with a slight head shake - no.

“But I’m glad you’re here,” Iris quickly said, not wanting Sameen to escape. “Why don’t you tell me why you … shot your gun. Was this in the line of duty?”

“Not exactly,” Sameen said, now that Iris seemed to be getting on track.

“Oh,” Iris said, gently turning to grab the notepad. This was usually the time Sameen complained that she was going to be taking notes, but today she said;

“Yeah, you better write this down; it gets complicated.”

“Is everyone okay?” Iris asked and she meant Shaw, Root, John and Fusco.

“Yes, but only because Root shot the man who had a gun to my mother’s head,” Shaw summarized.

All of this was news to Iris and she tried to appear calm as she took that in. “It sounds like there is a lot to tell, Sameen. Where do you want to start?”

“Well, I’d like to start with how Root saved my mother from the Russian mob who were looking for the intel she stole years ago when she was a CIA agent who had to go underground and disappear because the people she stole it from originally, were after her,” Shaw said and Iris couldn’t write fast enough.

“Your .. mother?” Iris asked the obvious question.

“Yes, thought she had abandoned me, but it turns out she showed up when we were on our way back from vacation. It seems she’s been spying on me all these years and only recently thought it was safe to come out of hiding. But it wasn’t. But we didn’t know that until after we kidnapped her and zip tied her to a chair in my apartment,” Shaw explained as if she was describing a typical outing.

“You _kidnapped_ your mother?” Iris asked cautiously.

“I had to,” Shaw explained. “She told us she poisoned Fusco. He didn’t tell you this?” Sameen asked incredulously. “Because he usually whines a lot when people do crap to him.”

“Uhm, no,” Iris said, making a mental note to talk to Lionel later, but unsure of how to bring it up. “We have professional limits …”

“Oh, yeah, well lucky you, because I know he’s not going to let me forget it,” Shaw bemoaned.

“So, she _poisoned_?” Iris asked getting Shaw back.

“She said she did, so we would give up our guns. But then it turned out to be spices and he was fine. She really played us, Doc. I mean, what kind of mother does that?” Shaw asked.

“I’m interested to find that out, too,” Iris admitted.

“Well, after finding out my mother was actually back and was messing with us, I decided to turn the tables. That’s when Root and I went back to her hotel room; tazed, drugged and zip tied her,” Sameen said proudly and then saw the expression on Iris’ face. “I didn’t hurt her. I just … you know… had to show her who was in control.”

Iris decided she better think fast on her feet if she were going to keep up with Sameen’s story. “Control is important to you,” she stated.

“Hell, yes!” Shaw said immediately. “That woman was gone from my life for years. Then, she waltzes back in and expects me to forgive her for all that happened? Hell, no! Not to mention that the people she thought she got rid of employed the Russian mob to find her. So, when I felt I had proved my point, I let her and her bodyguard go. But ….,” Shaw said exasperated. “As luck would have it, they found her and shot her.”

“The mob shot her?” Iris asked, and tried to keep her tone even. It was getting harder.

“A sniper on the roof across the street. I shot him,” Shaw said calmly. “Through the brick wall, in the dark, in the ….well, I got him.”

“So, you shot the man the mob sent to shoot your mother?” Iris asked to be clear.

“Yes,” Shaw answered and happy Iris was keeping up. “So, we pretended she died in the hospital and brought her back to Root’s apartment. Where she proceeded to lure us to the bedroom where she was supposed to be recuperating, but instead, she booby-trapped the door and escaped.” Shaw’s tone still rang with the sting over being duped.

“She escaped after you faked her death?” Iris asked, the details getting a little murky.

“Right?” Shaw said, sitting up straight now that Iris was getting how ungrateful Azar was. “Who does that?”

“Did you lose her?” Iris asked.

“No, because Root was clever enough to put a dissolvable GPS chip in her so that we could track her. And we did, which is how we all wound up at the warehouse in Brooklyn. She decided to give herself over to the mob. I mean, who gives themselves up when what they really wanted was her crazy all seeing program!”

“She has a program?” Iris asked.

“She has … something. Apparently, she stole it and got it to work so that she could keep tabs on me. Don’t you people have a special code for voyeurs or something?” Sameen asked, but Iris had to let that one go.

“So, what happened at the warehouse?” Iris inquired.

“Well, we all wore these earpieces and a couple of …uhm…. NYPD Detectives that we know,” Shaw said, out of the side of her mouth, “…joined us.”

“Okay,” Iris said, not writing that down.

“So, of course, the mob boss does not care that Azar is there and demands that she hand over the program. She thinks she can negotiate with them and tells them she will give them what they want, if they leave me and my supposed sister alone.”

“Your … _sister_?” Iris asked, thinking she missed a page or two.

“Yes,” Shaw said, glad to see that fact was surprising. “She told me during the negotiations that her bodyguard is my half-sister. I don’t believe it, but that was her story. Anyway, it didn’t work. I mean, anyone with two weeks of CIA training could have seen it wouldn’t work. So, I had to shoot the men who were with them, so I could get at her. I had help,” Shaw said, wondering why she was the only one there.

“And then …,” Iris asked, feeling like the kid that does not wants you to keep reading.

“Then, Root came to my aid, but before she did, she heard something in her earpiece that told her where to shoot through the wall. Then, when she was aiming her gun at Petrov, the mob boss, she swears she heard something tell her exactly when to shoot. She saved my mother,” Shaw ended the tale.

“Root .. heard something?” Iris asked.

“Yeah, not like voices, Doc. Well, yes they were voices, like male and female voices intermingled. She thinks Azar’s program hacked into our communication pieces, although we don’t know how,” Sameen explained.

“Where .. is your mother now?” Iris asked, trying to figure out the priority.

“Probably back at the Waldorf with her bodyguard,” Sameen said. “She said the machine chose Root and that she had no say in that, but if you ask me, I think my mother spent too much time undercover and is losing it.”

“But Root heard something?” Iris asked.

That was a good question. Not one that Shaw liked, but it was a good one. “Yeah,” she said, tired from telling the story.

“And, Sameen, how are you … feeling about your mother being back in your life?” Iris asked gently.

Shaw went to answer that quickly, but it was the look on Dr. Campbell’s face that made her stop. She hated when the therapist got that look as if she were looking right through Sameen.  
“I… have no idea,” Sameen admitted.

Iris leaned over to her cell phone and put in on “ _Do not disturb_ ”.

“Then, let’s talk about that,” the therapist suggested.


	17. Questions

Sameen pushed back on the couch and stared at Iris. “Come on, Doc; I expected more from you.”

The tiniest smile came across Iris’ lips as she felt Sameen’s jab. “What did you _expect_ from me, Sameen?”

Shaw was the one smiling now because Iris was willing to play her game. “I tell you my long lost mother is back, and you ask – ‘ _how are you feeling_?’” Sameen shook her head in mock disappointment. “Too easy.”

Iris knew this was her patient’s way of throwing them off track, which is the easier route when dealing with uncomfortable things. “Okay, then, tell me what your feelings are about this woman,” Iris asked, letting Sameen know she really wasn’t playing.

As long as the word ‘ _feelings_ ’ was in the sentence, it was all the same question to Sameen. But, Iris had called her bluff, so Sameen sat up again and shook her head. “Fine,” she answered in disgust. “What do I feel about the woman who abandoned me and then watched me grow up from afar though a weird looking glass kind of thing and then reappeared when my life was back in order? Well, I won’t be doing Mother’s Day brunches, I can tell you that,” she smiled sarcastically.

“I would think there is a great deal of mixed emotions,” Iris tried to say, but Sameen cut her off.

“They’re not mixed. Mixed implies confused. I am not confused,” Sameen said, staring back and getting into defense mode.

“I meant mixed in the sense that we can have more than one feeling about a person. We can have positive feelings and still be angry with them,” Iris elaborated.

“Oh, I’m _positive_ I’m _angry_ ,” Sameen retorted and watched as Iris let the pen dangle in-between her fingers. No need to write that down.

“Tell me about ….,” Iris attempted to lead Sameen, but Shaw wasn’t having any of that.

“Anger? Oh, good. Now we get to something that I know a lot about. I don’t do a lot of feelings,” Sameen began her monologue, “…but anger I do just fine. I like anger. It cuts through all the bullshit and gets to the heart of the matter. No dressing it up because someone might get their feelings hurt. Just the unadulterated truth. Yeah,” Sameen said, smiling, “….I like anger.” She was feeling proud of the way she answered that question, and it took a minute before she realized the therapist didn’t seem equally impressed.

Iris smiled again, the way someone does when they’re not going to tell you that you answered the wrong question, but will just ask the same question – a different way. Sameen swore that expression was saying – nice try.

“Tell me about being angry… at your mother,” she said and Sameen noticed that Iris was being firm somehow.

How was that possible, Sameen thought? Had she become so wishy-washy that even the therapist was tougher than she was? Sameen sometimes felt like her head got soft in this office.

“Look, that woman is not inside my head, okay? I mean; sure it was a surprise that she came out of nowhere after thinking …I don’t know what I was thinking,” Sameen paused because sarcasm was failing her. “Her actions had my father killed!”

Okay, playing the death-card in the session was Sameen’s way of throwing Iris off her game. And she needed Iris off her game because she was feeling unsteady in hers. It did give Iris pause, but only long enough for her to write something down. “Tell me how she did that?”

“Look, I’m going to give you the short version because I’m assuming there’s a mandatory retirement age at this company and I don’t want to leave here and find out I just reached it,” Shaw said, trying like hell to fire her mockery jets. She was almost positive she heard sputtering.

“That’s fine,” Iris said, wondering if there really was a short version.

“Azar was CIA. Well, it turns out both my parents were. A little detail they left out of my baby book. So, my mother goes undercover and can’t come back because she’s messing with the wrong people. She can’t take it one day, and reaches out to my father. No handler, by the way, which is standard protocol for any operative,” Shaw continued, feeling the least she could do was to educate Iris in the CIA process as well.

“Okay,” Iris said, grasping what was being said.

“My father, who should have been aware of the dangers, gives in to her needing to see us. He agrees to because, apparently, he also received his CIA training at Walmart,” Shaw was practically yelling now.

“Both parents were in the CIA,” Iris noted.

“And they both sucked at it. I mean, okay if your father is a cop and your mother is a cop, you deal with that. But if they suck at being cops? How would that make you feel?” Sameen asked, using an analogy she thought the therapist could relate to considering she came from a cop family.

“Especially if I became a cop….,” Iris added …and this is what made the woman as brilliant as she was. She was able to keep up with Sameen.

“Exactly!” Sameen said, jumping up from the couch now. “I was a good agent, a great operative. No one came close to what I could do,” Sameen said proudly. “So, to find out that my parents were subpar agents?” she asked, collapsing back on the couch. “Inexcusable. What would make them do that?”

“Can _you_ imagine, Sameen, missing someone so badly that you would lose your sense of what an agent should do under those circumstances?” Iris asked and she could see the fire flash in Sameen’s dark eyes at the thought.

“No!” Sameen answered because there was no excuse. She could have quoted Iris the page and section of the manual in which it explained the many reasons why.

Then, Iris asked the question that would stop Sameen in her tracks. “What about if you were separated from … Root?”

Sameen’s head shot up and her eyes locked on Iris in her most intimidating, I-could-snap-you-like-a-twig look she could muster. Her jaw tightened and her heart raced. She wanted a fast answer, a sarcastic retort and her brain scrambled for one. Then, she heard her voice say – “That’s different.” ‘ _Oh God_!’ Sameen shouted in her head. She had been in therapy long enough to know that when you say something is different, Iris was going to ask you to explain how.

“How?” Iris asked and Shaw threw her head back on the couch and let out a sigh.

The jig was up, according to Shaw. She had walked into this and now had dug herself in. The fact that a part of her wanted this all along didn’t occur to her. And besides, now they were talking about something much easier for Shaw to talk about. So, she took a deep breath, put her chest out, and decided she could do this.

“Root …,” she said and there was a long pause as she thought about all the things she could say to complete that sentence. She finally picked the best answer. “Root …is my safe place.”

The words drifted over to Iris between the space from the couch to her chair; but the sentiment filled the room. To see someone as closed off as Sameen used to be, sit there now and be able to share that Root made her feel safe … was no small thing. In fact, it was a giant leap for Sameen.

Iris’ goal was not to make Sameen more sympathetic towards her mother. It was to help Sameen deal with the feelings she experienced about her mother. Sameen was used to fighting for and about everything. So, the fact that Iris sat there, smiling slightly, and waiting – meant Sameen didn’t know what to do.

“Can we just …wrap this up?” Shaw asked as if it were the sandwich she couldn’t finish and wanted to take the rest home for later.

“Yes,” Iris said, always respecting her clients to tell her when they had enough.

Shaw hated when Iris was so agreeable. “Maybe … I can get my head around the idea that she did the best she could even if it was subpar. I can live with that if she can. I can even understand that she got in over her head and that she made choices because she believed she was protecting me. Forgive and forget …,” Shaw said, trying it on for size. “…and all that crap,” she added which put the sentiment in a different light. “But she’s trying to entice Root to join her – or at least look at her program. How do I know if she’s a mad scientist who sits up in the Waldorf Astoria planning maniacal things?”

“Well, you’re a trained CIA agent …,” Iris put forth. “What does your gut tell you?”

Sameen smiled at how easily Iris dealt the cards back that she had discarded before in the conversation. She let out a soft laugh and leaned forward. “My gut … tells me that woman is going to be a pain in the ass for as long as she’s in my life. I have noticed that she’s … very controlling and stubborn. Did I mention how stubborn she is?”

“I don’t think you used that word,” Iris remarked. The therapist couldn’t help but connect the dots between the mother-daughter similarities.

“She’s very cunning, my mother; talking directly to Root and trying to manipulate her,” Shaw said annoyed.

“Are you worried about Root?” Iris asked.

“Yes! No! I mean, Root knows what’s she doing, but my mother is speaking Root’s language,” Shaw said, throwing her hands up in the air with distaste. “An all seeing overlord who needs someone in the driver’s seat … “ Those words came out very slowly as Sameen imagined what she would be like if someone tempted her with the keys to a Lamborghini sports car. “I have to go,” she announced, getting up from her seat.

“I will see you soon, then,” Iris said, hedging a bet that Sameen would want to come back.

“Geez, you people don’t let up,” Shaw complained as she left the therapist’s office.

“Will she be back?” Iris’ secretary asked and mostly because she didn’t like Sameen.

“I’m almost certain of it,” Iris smiled because Sameen was brave enough to tackle these issues. She may do it kicking and screaming, but she was doing it.

* * *

It was more Sameen’s gut feeling than anything that made her leave Iris’ office and head up to Harold’s. She waved off Harold’s secretary and barged into his office where he and Root and Bear were sitting around his desk with the many computers. In the short time it took Shaw to go from the therapist’s couch to Harold’s door, Sameen decided that Root might be the kind of person her mother would see fit to take advantage of. That, Shaw decided, was not going to happen.

The quietude of Harold’s office, filled only with the soft murmur of he and Root looking at the computer screen, was shattered by Sameen’s barging through the door and bellowing;

“I don’t care what kind of machine my mother has to offer, you are _not_ going to ever be alone with that woman. Ever! Do you understand me?” Shaw ordered.

Root had turned in her chair and watched as Sameen’s face hardened with a frown, nostrils flaring. Shaw was five feet three inches of anger and determination and was being bossy. Root damn near fell over in her chair; she found it so exciting.

“Uh….,” Root said as her elbow missed the back of the chair. “Yes, whatever you say,” Root said, a smile appearing on her face because she was looking her firecracker up and down.

“Yeah?” Sameen said, because that seemed easy. “Well, okay, good,” she added, having a bag full of fight with her and not really needing it.

With that she turned and walked out of the room. “Okay, then,” she said and was walking back down to her area when someone came up behind her and pulled her into a small conference room. “What the hell?” Shaw said, turning around to see who would be insane enough to do that. “Root!” she said, annoyed.

“Miss me?” the CEO asked invading Sameen’s space and walking her backwards until she hit the wall.

“Like a … yes, I missed you. I was in with Iris so I missed the entire hour of my life,” Shaw complained.

“How did that go?” Root asked, not moving and playing with the loose strand of hair that framed Sameen’s face.

“How did it go?” she asked. “How does it ever go? I talk, she writes, I answer, she annoys me.”

“I hope you found it helpful,” Root said, still playing with Sameen’s hair, even though she hand gently pushed Root’s hand away… twice.

“Yeah, right,” Shaw said, not willing to admit if it was yet. “What were you and the Brainiac up to?”

And then Root uttered the last five words Sameen wanted to hear, especially in a cheery voice;

“I found your mother’s machine.”


	18. Reasonable Request

Having just announced that Root found the machine that Azar had spoken about meant that Root was steps ahead of where Sameen thought they were. She thought they were in the ‘ _slowly thinking things through_ ’ phase. As was her nature, Root had zipped past that.

“What does that mean?” Sameen asked, this time grabbing the hands that insisted on playfully twisting Shaw’s hair around her fingers.

“It means I know where she keeps it, Silly,” Root said because when you’re a tech genius, things like this are child’s play.

Sameen was amazed that Root could still sound all playful when she was so annoyed. “Root!” she said as if that tone was supposed to convey everything she was feeling.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Root assured her. “I’m not going to see it alone. I’ll go with you when you’re ready.”

Shaw shook her head. “No! I don’t …we don’t know … I don’t trust that woman.”

“Azar?” Root said, as if Shaw had just she didn’t trust the Tooth Fairy.

“Yes, Azar! The woman who duped us; the woman you already saved; the woman …,” Sameen said thinking this would clinch it, “…who is a pain in my ass!”

God, Root loved it when Sameen all but stomped her feet, but of course, she wouldn’t say that. Instead, Root pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side. “We don’t have to do anything. I was just letting you know what we found.”

“Who’s… _we_?” Sameen asked. “You and the man who gasps when I enter his office?”

Root smiled and went back to playing with Shaw’s hair. “Harry confirmed that the program must be very powerful to be able to have such a wide radius.”

“Great, just great,” Sameen said, knowing a lot had happened while she was with Iris. “Wait, who’s _we_?” she asked again, because suddenly Root became evasive and that wasn’t like her. “You and Harold found it, right? You did square root to the thirty seventh power and he did a rain dance or something and … you came up with its location?”

It was almost as if Sameen knew the answer and didn’t want to hear it. She wanted to hear that Root and Harold put their massive IQ’s together and solved the riddle. She didn’t want to hear –

“It told me.” Root said that like it was perfectly normal for AI’s to communicate with you.

“No, no, no,” Sameen said, taking Root by the hands now. “Don’t you see, Root?” she pleaded. “She’s playing you. She wants you to be involved with this program and so she’s messing with you. This woman put salve on Bear’s nose so she could escape and then she booby-trapped the door. Hello?”

“Well, … maybe,” Root said, because she had this odd feeling that Azar was telling the truth, although she had very little say why she felt that way.

Now Sameen was insulted. “May-be?” she said, crossing her arms and frowning.  
Root got it immediately. “Oh, no, I don’t mean maybe we should trust her, but you have to admit, this is very curious,” Root tried to entice her angry girlfriend.

“I’m not curious,” Shaw said and then looked up at the ceiling as if she were really checking her feelings. “Nope, not curious at all. Besides …,” she switched gears and tried a different tactic, “… couldn’t you …,” she said, running her finger down Root’s arm, “…just build whatever she has?”

_Coy_? _Now, that was new,_ Root thought and smiled as her head swayed. “You would think, right?”

“What’s it with you and your poor listening skills?” Shaw barked, pulling back coy and going for annoyed instead.

“I think we kind of have a responsibility to check it out. I mean, supposed Azar isn’t trustworthy like you say. Shouldn’t we see what she’s got so we can determine if she’s using it responsibly or not?” Root asked, appealing to Shaw’s innate sense of right and wrong. It was a direct hit.

Shaw’s head flooded with questions, a sensation she was not happy with. Root saw it immediately. “Why don’t we talk about this over lunch?” she asked, knowing food always made distasteful things go down easier for Sameen.

“Fine!” she said, because she was really hungry. “But I have a lot of questions and I want answers!”

Fired up Shaw was too enticing for Root not to ask; “So, is there a _punishment_ if I don’t answer?”

“ROOT!” Shaw said through gritted teeth.

“Camp Fire promise!” Root saluted, trying to smooth her girlfriend’s nerves.

Shaw started to walk out of the room with Root when she had to ask. “How did … it …tell you?” The fact that she was stopped and standing there – when food was her destination, told Root how serious Sameen was.

Root looked up and down the hallway, to make sure no one was listening. “Through my earpiece,” she whispered.

* * *

Shaw started walking and quickly analyzed that if Azar was using her program to talk to Root, it could simply be using a wireless capability to tap into their frequency. Azar had already done that at the warehouse when Root shot through the walls. A program for thermal heat could pick up people’s exact location and then tell Root where to shoot. It wasn’t a complicated program. So, now that Azar was trying to entice Root, she could simply have the program send her messages. “ _Yoo-hoo, I’m over here!_ ” But that raised another question.

“Wait,” Shaw said, feet from the lunch room where her Parks deli sandwich would be waiting for her. “…why are you even wearing the earpiece?”

Root was really hoping that by the time Shaw asked her that; because she knew it was just a matter of time; Shaw would have her mouth filled with the mouthwatering ingredients of the Beatrice Lillie. Sameen lifted Root’s hair to see the piece in her ear. “Root?”

Caught.

“I just … wanted to see …. if I heard anything,” Root answered sheepishly. “I just want to know what it is; if it’s really what Azar says it is.” Root’s sounded like the kid outside the toy store that just wanted to go in and look around, promising not to touch.

“You ..you don’t just want to see it; you want to play with it. If you see this … this …thing, you’re going to want to look under the hood, take it for a drive,” Shaw assessed, knowing how tantalizing this was for the techie.

Caught again.

“I…might …want to …,” Root began, unable to evade the truth as those dark eyes stared at her, “…see how it works.”

“Look, Root, I get it,” Sameen started out sounding so sympathetic that Root’s face lit up. “…but if we go there and she’s manipulating you, I’m going to have to shoot her and when Campbell finds out that I shot my own mother, I will have to spend every waking moment in therapy. You don’t want that now, do you, Root?”

“Are you one hundred percent certain that Azar is doing this?” Root asked and tried to walk Sameen closer to the employee lounge because she definitely thought they needed food nearby.

“Are you kidding? Azar is organized, efficient, maybe even sociopathic... not that there's anything wrong with that. She’s behind this, Root.”

“Maybe we could just go talk to her, now that we know so much more,” Root asked, hopeful. “I bet Dr. Campbell would want you to talk to your mother.” Root couldn’t help herself. Someone was dangling a superpower AI out in front of her, so to speak, and she wanted to know more.

The ‘E _ven your therapist would think this was a good idea_ ’ card. Shaw looked at Root, trying to figure out what to do.

“I know you, Root. One look at this thing and you’re going to be ..” _oh, can I keep it_?’” Shaw mocked. “Okay, we go …if you insist. But we go as a team,” Shaw said, and meant Reese, too. “And remember, there is no dead in team. We'll chat on the way there about how I'm gonna kill her if she does anything.”

Root smiled now that they had resumed their walking to the food court. “Remember, Sameen, use your words.”

“I just used them all up with the shrink,” Sameen explained as they walked into the employee cafeteria where Shaw proceeded to take her frustrations out on the Park Deli owner.

“What do you want?” she said as Shaw approached the counter.

“The same thing I have every time I come here?” Shaw barked. The owner saw Root smile out of the corner of her eye.

“And I’m supposed to remember what you want just because you come here so often?” the woman said on cue.

“Do you even have any other customers?” Shaw said, looking around at the vacancy behind her.

“They come early, when the food is fresher,” the woman said, without skipping a beat. “You ordering or can I go on break?”

“Do you believe this?” Shaw said, looking at Root who just shook her head in amazement.

Then, Shaw ordered her sandwich the way she liked it, complete with threats if it wasn’t exactly the way she ordered it. All the time, the woman serving her asked her if she wanted mayo or the other ingredients that Shaw had just specifically named and said she didn’t. “You want extra mayo?”

“I don’t want any at all. None. If I see you go near the jar ….,” Shaw said, working up her appetite.

“Okay, here it is,” said the woman who could make this sandwich just the way Sameen liked – in the dark, with one hand behind her back.

“Are there chips in here?” Sameen asked, holding the paper bag.

“Chips extra,” the woman said, just as she said every time Sameen asked if they were already in there.

Root smiled a long stare at the woman for doing such an excellent job. Then, she ordered a salad from the waiter when they were seated at the table. “You should get one of these,” Shaw said, holding the pastrami sandwich in the wrapped paper up to her mouth.  
Root loved watching Sameen eat. It was hypnotic the way her mouth moved, her lips and tongue working overtime to savor the food. It took Root’s mind off of everything. That would explain why she mindlessly reached over and took a sip from Shaw’s soda cup.  
Shaw stared at her, thinking – she owns the entire building; you would think someone would just give her a soda. She was thinking this as she grabbed it back from Root’s hand and wiped it off, staring back at her girlfriend.

The women ate their food and Sameen ordered dessert. Therapy made her very hungry. “I swear I make her a better therapist,” she said shamelessly.

“How so?” Root asked because she loved watching those full lips move.

“I don’t let her ….(shoved piece of cake in mouth) … getawaywithanything,” Shaw explained.

“Really?” Root asked, leaning on her elbow now and staring.

“Yes. Most people are too intimidated by their therapists, or too in awe cause they seem smart. Authority figure stuff. No me,” Shaw clarified.

“I bet you’re her favorite,” Root smiled, thinking Sameen would be everyone’s favorite.

“Not a contest I want to win. I’m only there because of that stupid policy,” Shaw reminded her.

“Oh, yes,” Root agreed because that’s what best girlfriends so.

* * *

The women finished lunch and decided to return to Root’s office where they would decide when they would reach out to Azar and talk about her program.

“There’s no urgency as far as I’m concerned. Just a curiosity,” Root elaborated as they walked back. She was surprised to see that Jill was not at her desk.

“Didn’t that kill a bunch of cats or something?” Shaw asked, trying to get her point across.

The two women entered Root’s office where they were greeted warmly.

“Hello Sameen, Samantha. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t wait outside,” Azar said, sitting on the couch, waiting for them.


	19. Standing Up For Sameen

Both Sameen and Root were surprised at the brazen woman’s presence, but it was Shaw who stepped out in front first. “What the _hell_ are you doing here?” she growled. “Do you ever take a hint?”

Azar smiled calmly and looked past her furious daughter and up at Root. “They’ve made contact,” is what she said. She wasn’t being arrogant as much as she was being calm.

The woman’s appearance annoyed Sameen, let alone her speaking cryptically. “What are you … lost in a time warp where all they play are alien movies? Get a grip, for God’s sake and stop talking like you’ve been sent from an all-seeing overlord. Or … I’ll….,” and she gave that some thought. She figured it out quickly and pulled a chair up so she could sit right in front of Azar. “…..Or I’ll find your precious machine and shoot the shit out of it.” Not poetic, but it got her meaning across. And in case that didn’t do it, Sameen added; “I mean it, mother. I will blow … it…up!”  Only when she pulled back did she see the black eye her mother was sporting from her direct hit. She fought with herself not to ask how she was or to apologize for hitting the older woman. “ _Not doing it, I’m not doing it_ ’, she repeated in her head and looked away.

“I thought we agreed that I would contact you,” Root said, none too pleased at how upset Sameen got over this surprise visits.

“That was before ….,” Azar said and didn’t answer Sameen. All three of them could hear Sameen’s labored breathing. “I thought we had more time before it hinted at its location.”

“I don’t think you showing up here is very helpful. It certainly does not bode well for us wanting to help you,” Root said and Shaw liked that.

“I had no intention of coming until …,” and Azar paused which was rare. She could feel the weight of her daughter’s stare on her and was not taking it lightly. “You must believe me, Sameen. This … thing is bigger than me and you. It can accomplish …. good things …. In the right hands.”

“You mean like getting you past my security which was upgraded since the last time you came here uninvited?” Root asked and Sameen thought that was an excellent question.

“It needs your help,” Azar said and Shaw closed her eyes so as to not thing about strangling her mother.

“Ms. Morin, I can only guess that you sought me out because of my technical acuity. And I admit, my curiosity is piqued. But there is something far more important to me, and it’s Sameen’s well-being. And you, Ms. Morin, have not done such a good job taking care of that since you returned,” Root said, coming up behind Shaw and putting her hands on her shoulder. “So, I would like you to leave.”

Root sounded so definite that the only thing Shaw could think to add was a raised eyebrow.

Azar looked from Root to Shaw. “I know you must think that I am causing this; that I am trying to get you to be involved in something you don’t want to be. Sameen, I promise you I am not. I know there is no reason for you to trust me, but if you would just come and see for yourself, I think you would see I’m telling the truth.”

It annoyed Shaw how this woman was not easily deterred. She was like Bear when they were going out and he latched onto their legs and wouldn’t let go. Except, way more annoying.

“Aren’t you afraid if you bring me to it, I’ll do something to it?” Shaw asked.

“No,” Azar answered a little too quickly for even Root’s liking. It was as if she knew Sameen wouldn’t be able to do it.

“Fine, then,” Shaw said, looking at Root. “She already knows where it is, so we can just go there … and I can blow it to smithereens.”

“Yes, she does,” Azar confirmed. “That’s why I am here.”

“Why?” Root asked.

“Because it is trying to use you as an interface. I’m not sure why, Samantha, other than you are a genius who will understand its program. It has grown beyond my capabilities and they were limited at best,” Azar explained.

“An inter – what?” Shaw yelled, standing up. “You want that machine to talk to her …so she can become a drone, carrying out its instructions?”

“She would never lose her free will,” Azar assured them both.

“Oh, you mean the way you’ve been puppeteered to show up here? Face it, mother, you’re being manipulated, too,” Shaw blasted across the space between them.

“It needs our help. I’d rather see you destroy it, Sameen, than have it in the wrong hands. I believe Ms. Groves will know what to do,” Azar said, having lost countless sleepless nights over this.

“It..,” Sameen smiled. “Maybe it’s the fact that you abandoned you family that makes you so attached to a machine,” Shaw jabbed. “Speaking of offspring; where is your inept bodyguard,” she said, looking around.

“She’s assuring Samantha’s secretary that we mean you no harm,” Azar answered.

“You two are not winning any popularity contests here,” Shaw remarked.

“I think we’ve over stayed our welcome,” Azar said, getting up. “Samantha, I know the machine reached out to you. It’s doing so because it knows what can happen if someone gets ahold of it; someone who could use it for nefarious purposes. It is, I assure you, an invitation. Come and see it and see what it can do. Then, you can walk away and Sameen can do her best to destroy it,” Azar said and Root didn’t care for the way she said ‘do her best’ as if it couldn’t be done.

‘ _Geez_ ,’ Root thought, ‘ _This woman is going to make one terrible mother-in-law_.’

“So, if we decide not to go, this thing will just keep reaching out to Root? Is that what you’re saying?” Shaw demanded.

A small smile came over Azar, the kind you don’t mean to show up in a serious conversation when someone is very angry at you. “Think of it as a petulant child, Sameen,” she said. “Right now, it wants what it wants.”

Any message from Azar was hard because she was, after all, Sameen’s mother. No matter how well intentioned they were, they simply seeped all the way to a tender spot in Shaw. She hated that the woman had such an effect on her, but it was as if it went beyond her control.

Azar was doing her best not to push Sameen. She regretted doing anything that pushed the wedge between them deeper. She wanted to do all she could do close the gap; heal the wounds if she could. But she knew this was bigger than both of them and she had to act on what she felt was the greater good.

For Root, there was simply no greater good than Sameen.

“We know where it is,” Root said with assurance.

Azar smiled and nodded her head, but there was a certain quality of ‘ _you think you do_ ’ attached to it. “Petulant children … can be challenging,” is all she said. “The longer you wait, the less chance there is that you will have a choice.”

“Oh, you mean, because the Russian mob lost its leader yesterday and all hell will break loose now?” Shaw asked.

“Something like that,” Azar said, walking to the door.

“Don’t come back, Azar,” Root said and this time, the woman nodded her head and her expression became serious. She understood. This time.

And then, even though everyone in the room thought she should end on that note and leave, Azar turned to Root before she exited. “I know what you see it Sameen, Samantha. Her endurance, fidelity, and intelligence.” She had put her hand on Root’s arm while she said it. Then, she lowered her head, removed her hand and walked out.

* * *

Shaw felt as if she had been punched in the gut … again.

“Oh, Sweetie, I am so sorry,” Root said, putting her hands on Sameen’s shoulders. “She really is one pain in the ass.”

Shaw nodded her head yes, but couldn’t talk. She wanted to, but each time that woman came near her, it was harder and harder.

“Look, Sameen,” Root said, sitting down across from her love and holding her hands. “We will do whatever you want. Harry says it’s got to be a powerful program, so maybe we don’t want to get involved. Let whoever finds it first, find it. This is Azar’s problem, not ours,” Root said, trying like hell to sound like she believed half of what she said.

“What do you think it is, Root?” Sameen asked and her tone meant that she respected only Root’s opinion on this.

“Is it possible that your mother found an AI in its infancy and concocted the right environment for it to grow into a more advanced program?” Root asked and then looked at Sameen’s beautiful face. “I can only guess that she was very motivated to make it work for the purpose of staying connected to you. _That_ kind of drive can accomplish a great many things.”

It seemed okay to Sameen that Root said her mother was using the program to find her and keep tabs on her. “Then we should go see it, Root. If she’s telling the truth and this thing is able to reach out to you, I think we should know what it is you’re dealing with,” Sameen said deciding.

“Okay, then,” Root said cautiously.

“I still get to blow it up if it’s half as annoying as my mother,” Shaw added.

“Of course, Sweetie,” Root agreed without question.

“I want to eat before we go,” Sameen said because feeding her emotions was a full time job.

“Sure, what do you want?” Root said, getting on the phone.

“Pizza,” Shaw said because food was always the easy decision.

“Want something on it … like pineapple?” Root asked, waiting for the chef to pick up.

“What? Hate it. No pineapple on pizza ever. It's a f$&king carby meal with loads of cheese. Not a fruit salad**!” Shaw explained with a frown on her face that indicated Root broke one of her many rules about food.

“Okay, Sweetie,” Root said, wanting to laugh at how offended Sameen got over even suggesting a change to her meal selections.

The pizza order was placed and the two settled in to sooth Sameen’s nerves and plan their next step. It was delivered within minutes.

* * *

Ayala had done a good job of convincing Root’s secretary that they were only there for a short time. She assured Azar the woman would come to within minutes of their leaving. Then, they went downstairs on the elevator.

People got on the elevator as it made its decent to the lobby. Before getting off, Azar turned to the woman who had been standing next to her unaware of their connection.  “Dr. Campbell?” Azar said, as the two walked into the lobby area.

“Yes,” Iris said in a friendly tone and extended her hand when Azar put hers out. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” the therapist asked, unable to place the exquisite woman’s face. She looked familiar, but Iris couldn’t remember where they may have met.

“No,” Azar assured her. “We haven’t really met,” she explained because she knew she was probably the topic of more than one session she had with her daughter. “I’ve read your papers on parental absence in early childhood,” Azar explained and walked slowly with Iris. “I was particularly interested in your view that children can grow up well adjusted as long as there are others in the parents’ absence who can nurture the child,” she explained.

“Are you .. in the field?” Iris asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s actually read my papers outside of academics,” Iris said, flattered that this woman had and amazed that she should run into her.

Azar stopped and smiled at Iris. “No, Dr. Campbell. I am not. But I am a parent and found your views very comforting – even all these years later. Thank you, Dr. Campbell –, ” Azar said, smiling and taking the woman’s hand warmly, “…for your work.”

Iris nodded and thanked the stranger as she put her hand to her neck. She was taken with the serendipity of the encounter and admitted to herself that the woman exuded a charm she had rarely experienced with a stranger. “What are the odds of that?” Iris said under her breath, blushing from her sixty seconds of fame.

At the same time, Root heard in her ear – “There is a thirty-five percent chance of Azar running into Dr. Campbell.”

“I think I better take this out,” Root smiled, not knowing what the message meant, but trusting it had some significance.

Sameen watched as Root removed the earpiece and put it in her purse.

“Will you have to get one of those unlimited data plans now if that thing starts talking to you all the time?” she joked as she ate her second slice of carby, cheesy pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Not only do I take the POI writer's best lines, I took this from Sarah herself when she was live last week for fans.


	20. Testing; 1,2,3

Root listened to Sameen grumble about what an aggravating woman her mother was, in between bites of the cheesy pizza. She had to agree that the woman seemed to have her own agenda and wasn’t taking no for an answer. She also wondered why Azar seemed smug when Sameen told her they knew where the machine was. Based on the activity that a program like that could perform, Root was certain that they had pinpointed the location.

“Where …..(chomp)….do you ….(loud chewing) … you … think it is?” Shaw asked, finally feeling calmer enough to ask.

“Well, based on the program Harry and I developed this morning and the fact that the coordinates were heard in the ear piece, I’d say Azar keeps the machine at the New York Public Library,” Root assessed.

“The li-ba-ry?” Shaw asked between bites and a long slurp of soda.

“Yes,” Root said, and nonchalantly took the same soda container and took a sip … on purpose. Then, she gently put it back down next to Sameen’s food.

“Like what? In a book or something?” Shaw said and never once grabbed the soda back or wiped it off.

“Progress,” Root uttered smiling and Shaw asked what that meant. “Oh, nothing. Yes, I think she has parts of it hidden in the New York Public Library. There are old stalls and hallways in there. I am very familiar with them, so I think we could go there whenever you want.” Root indeed was acquainted with them because that’s where she spent her days and some nights when she was growing up. She would sneak away right before closing and find secret places to stay the night. Of course, she was such a fixture there, that she had to be careful not to be caught or they’d call Child Services.

“Get your library card, then. I want to go now,” Shaw said, glad that the chances of running into her mother were small.

“Well, I don’t think we’ll be waltzing in through the front door, if you know what I mean,” Root said with a lilt in her voice because she was always up for an adventure with Shaw.

“Even better,” Shaw said and texted John. “I think we should ask Fusco.”

“The more, the merrier,” Root said because she loved saying things like that when danger was involved.

* * *

John didn’t blink when Shaw told him to pack something powerful that could blow shit up. Fusco was a little more dubious.

“So, let me get this straight,” the Detective said to his trio of friends. “You didn’t ask Carter here because you’re afraid of the outcome? How is that supposed to make me feel?” he asked.

“Special?” Reese suggested and Shaw laughed because John could be very funny … when he tried.

“Yeah, real special,” Fusco bemoaned as they drove up to Bryant Park which is located directly behind the New York Public Library. “So, I’m guessing this has something to do with your mother and her magical machine?”

“Yeah,” Shaw said as they parked where only authorized vehicles were allowed and unloaded what they needed.

“We’re going to take a peek behind the curtain,” Root said excitedly.

“And what do you need me for?” Fusco asked, looking at the fake decal in the front of the van.

“To identify our bodies if it goes ass-sideways,” Shaw said and wasn’t kidding.

“Oh, that’s a great reason to ask me to come,” Fusco complained and Shaw actually pulled his arm to come and stop complaining.

“That, and your sparkling conversation, Fusco. Now, come on or I’ll spend my entire next session talking to your girlfriend about how you helped us do this.” Shaw warned.

“See, that’s not funny. We got boundaries, okay. And we don’t talk shop when we’re together,” Fusco answered seriously.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said, walking fast to catch up with Root.

* * *

The quartet walked through the park and towards the restaurant; the Bryant Park Grill. Fusco followed, hoping dinner was included in this package tour of terror. But he heard John announce this was a surprise inspection by the gas company and they were led through the kitchen into the basement. John explained to the restaurant staff that they may want to go back upstairs, in case anything … blew up. They left immediately.

Then, Root took over and felt her away along the wall until they found a doorway, long forgotten. John took out the crowbar and within minutes, the door was pried open. Dust and cobwebs rained down on the foursome as they walked into the dark hallway on the other side. The door closed hard behind them when John pulled it shut.

Root turned on a flashlight and the disturbed inhabitants could be heard scurrying away. The only one affected, of course, was Shaw who stopped dead in her tracks. If there was one thing that scared her more than mice, it was rats.

“You want I should carry you?” Lionel asked and even though he sounded like he was busting chops, he would have done it. Shaw’s thank you came in the form of a punch to his arm. “I’ll take that as a no, Maybelline.”

Root seemed to know exactly where she was going based on a GPS app on her phone that directed her to the adjoining basement of the library. “There should be some doors over …. Here,” she said and led the group through the maze.

“I think I still have a book out from this place from when I was in night school,” Lionel said, breaking the silence as they followed Root.

“Maybe when we’re done down here, you could pop upstairs and pay that ginormous fine,” Shaw quipped.

“Geez, would you look at the size of that rat,” he said and Shaw jerked as she moved away.

“I’m going to shoot him. As soon as we find this thing, I’m kneecapping him,” she announced.

“Next time, I say Bear babysits those two,” Reese said to Root, who personally found the sibling like rivalry funny.

More dark hallways filled with cobwebs, dirty walls and smelly dampness, led them to the doorway of the library basement. John applied his muscles again and the door opened up.

“When the library needed more space, they took over the caretaker’s apartments upstairs and the basement. But, when funding ran out, they stopped. This is where they keep the old furniture and carts,” Root announced as they entered the large area that looked abandoned.

“And it’s here?” Shaw asked, looking around.

Root concentrated, looking down at her phone, but the signal was fading so far beneath the structure. “It should be right here,” she said, looking at the empty shelving.

“Leave it to my mother to screw us over again,” Shaw said, believing her mother enjoyed it somehow.

Suddenly, Root’s phone rang. “Hello?” she said.

“ **T** ango, **U** niform, **R** omeo, **N** ovember; **L** ima, **E** cho, **F** oxtrot, **T** ango,” the gender mixed voice said.

Everyone heard it. Root deciphered it quickly and turned left to see the door in front of them. Then, the voices read the alphanumeric combination to open the door. Inside, were several processors, all blinking.

“Is that it?” Shaw asked, surprised the closet like space was so small. She watched as Root smiled and slowly ran her hand over the hardware.

“It’s part of it,” Root said and her tone was a mixture of excitement and wonder.

“Looks … kinda small,” Shaw noted.

“Looks kind like a geek’s bedroom if you ask me,” Fusco said.

Root could tell by the flashing that the systems were processing a great deal of information. But she knew this was the processing area and not everything was here.

“Do you want us to find you?” Root asked and the trio looked at her because they could tell she wasn’t talking to them.

The large screen in front of them displayed the message – “ _When the time is right_ ”.

“That’s it, I’m gonna unplug a dozen or so of my mother’s friend’s cords here,” Shaw threatened.

“ _The time is not now_ ,” the screen read .

“But we know where you are,” Root said and Fusco was absolutely convinced the Cocoa Puff Squad was going to all be put away.

The cursor blinked on the screen and the message appeared: “S _ameen will find me. When the time is right._ ”

“Did that thing just call me by my first name? Did you just call me? Don’t call me by my name,” Sameen said, pointing at the screen.

“ _Okay, Shaw_ ,” the screen displayed.

“That’s it! Reese, give me something big,” she demanded because she was not going to be played by a machine.

“You’re not making friends out here,” Root said, letting the entity know whose side she was on.

 _“I apologize_ ,” came the immediate answer.

“How do we know Azar isn’t just making this thing talk,” John wondered out loud.

“ _Excellent question_ ,” the screen responded. Then row after row of information about the foursome started to scroll very quickly. It was hard for Root to read it, but she got the gist. It would be hard for Azar to write a program that could display that kind of information at a moment’s notice.

“What is it that you want?” Root asked, because she was comfortable talking to machines.

“ _I need you to consider my future, Samantha Groves_ ,” the letters spelled out.

“Consider or decide?” Root asked astutely. The program was assessing Root’s answers and concluded that she was of higher intelligence than the typical IQ tests indicated.

“ _Decide_ ,” came the answer and Root took that to be the more serious response.

“Then, you have to give us time. And by that I mean, don’t send Azar to us. We need time to think this through. We know where to find you,” Root said.

“ _Thank you_ ,” appeared on the screen.

“Well, I’ll say this,” Lionel stated. “For a bunch of boxes that look like game consoles, it’s got manners.”

In part, Root was chosen because of the respect she had for things beyond most people’s imaginations. She smiled and slowly closed the door on the machine.

“So, that’s it?” Fusco asked.

“Yep,” Root said, satisfied that they had made physical contact.

“Glad we didn’t have to blow it up,” Reese said and put the heavy duffle bag back on his shoulder.

Shaw was busy looking around the room, trying to imagine what it would be like for a kid to have to seek shelter there. “You’re pretty familiar with this place,” she said to Root.

“Oh, yes,” Root agreed. “When things got bad in foster care, I would take off and find my refuge in this old building. I have an absolutely fondness for this place,” Root said, and stroked the wall as she said it.

Shaw forced a smile on her face that read ‘ _how nice_ ’, but that’s not what she was thinking. Root went ahead to lead the way out with John. Shaw pulled on Fusco’s arm hard. “I’m going to ask you to do something for me that you can’t say no to, okay?” she whispered as if he ever did.

“Okay,” he said, because he knew the difference between Shaw being a pain and when she was dead serious.

“I want the names of any foster family Root was ever with,” Shaw said in a low voice.

“Seriously? Why?” he asked and knew he shouldn’t.

“Remember we went over this, Lionel? Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to?” Shaw smiled.

“Shaw, that was like twenty years ago or more. You’re gonna knock on their doors now?” Fusco asked.

“I never said I would knock,” Shaw said in all her Shaw-ness.

“No killing. Use your words, Shaw,” he raised his voice as she walked away.

“I want those names, okay?” she said.

Shaw was dead serious.

* * *

Lionel had contacts in Child Services that could have gotten him the list in a matter of days. But when he got back to the station, Joss handed him a fax that had come in for him.

“You ordered this?” Joss asked when Fusco returned.

He looked down at the list of names and peered back over his reading glasses. “Not yet, I didn’t.”


	21. Under Pressure

Fusco looked up at Carter across the desk.

“Don’t look at me,” she said, reading that quizzical look on his face. “I just delivered that fax to you. Now, if had to guess,” she whispered, looking around to make sure no one overheard them, “…I’d say it has to do with your _Trio of Troublemakers._ ” Fusco didn’t mind her guessing correctly, but the raised eyebrow and the little head shake was overdoing it, he felt. “I hope they have a good pension plan, Fusco, because if you get caught being part of that civilian calamity, well, you know what happens.”

“You got any _good_ advice,” Fusco whispered back across the space between them.

“Yeah,” Joss said, not skipping a beat, “…don’t get caught.”

“Big help,” he replied.

Joss really liked the people she was talking about, especially the big guy. But Lionel was her partner, and she sure as hell didn’t want to break in a new one. So, she went the extra mile when it came to the big-hearted detective. “Lionel, don’t do anything that goes against your principles, okay? Even if the little one threatens you.” She knew how attached he was to Shaw.

“Yeah,” Lionel said, wondering just how much trouble Shaw would get into if he gave over this list of names. He thought about it and decided the best thing he could do for her … and everyone …was to shred the paper. So, he did. Carter watched him do it and smiled her approval without even looking up.

* * *

John returned to his apartment with his large duffle bag filled with weapons that they didn’t use. He was actually glad of that because he wasn’t sure how discriminating Shaw would be when she needed something. He poured himself a glass of straight whisky and texted Joss. “Dinner?”

“Yes,” came the reply from the happy detective.

“Can Taylor make it?” John typed back.

“Yes, he can,” Joss said, and thought this was one of the biggest reasons she loved this guy. He was always looking to include her son in things. “Just finishing up and we’ll meet you.”

* * *

The couple returned to the Penthouse and collapsed on the couch. The smell of something delicious greeted them when they first arrived. Isabelle brought in a tray of miniature quiches and other appetizers to hold them over. Well, hold Shaw over. “I love these!” she said, putting one after the other in her mouth.

Bear whined at Root to please ask Shaw to slow down because he didn’t have a clue how to do a Heimlich maneuver on a person. Root knew the best way to slow Sameen down.

“Have I …,” Root said sweetly, as she turned Sameen’s face toward her, “…mentioned how much I love you?”

Nothing threw Sameen off track like open declarations of love. Especially, in front of people. Isabelle and Bear both qualified as people to Sameen.

“What?” she asked and looked at Root as if she were speaking code.

“How much? I love you?” Root repeated slowly so Sameen could swallow before she responded.

“Is this …(chew, swallow) … absolutely necessary … you know, now?” Sameen asked, annoyed at Root’s timing.

“I think it’s always a good time to tell your girlfriend how much you ….,” Root explained, but was interrupted.

“O…KAY,” Sameen said, getting up from the couch, shoving her hands in her pockets and actually …bowing ….as she exited. “This was fun. Call me … you know… when dinner …..” she attempted to complete a sentence unsuccessfully. “Shower,” she said, pointing upstairs. “Yeah.”

Isabelle curled her lips in and pressed down hard so she wouldn’t laugh. She waited until Sameen was upstairs and out of earshot before turning to Root and saying; “You know how to throw her right off track, don’t you,” she mused.

“I do, indeed,” Root laughed and suggested next time, Isabelle only put a few of the hors d’oeuvres on the platter.

“Oh, right,” the chef said, understanding. “But it’s not like anything can ruin that appetite!” she added excitedly because she loved how much Shaw loved her cooking.

* * *

Root followed Sameen upstairs, ready to apologize for that brazen display of affection. “Sweetie?” she called out when she heard Sameen in the shower.

“Root!” Sameen said, in an admonishing tone that meant – ‘ _didn’t we talk about saying that kind of stuff in front of people?_ ’

“I know…,” Root said, her lips laced with apology.

“We need to talk about that,” Sameen said, trying to sound stern because she didn’t want to actually have to spell it out; she just wanted Root to get it from her tone and idle threats.

“Great!” Root said, and immediately stepped into the shower … naked … as if she were planning this whole thing. Shaw’s shoulders slumped as she stared at Root. “I thought you meant … right now,” Root said and the suppressed laugh made her eyes sparkle and her head wobble.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, knowing how Root took any opportunity to talk …in the shower….naked.

“Well, since I’m here,” Root said, lathering up her hands, “…. I’d like to apologize for expressing my feelings ...so..openly.” Sameen didn’t buy the apology for a minute, but Root’s hands were convincing her to forget the entire situation.

“God, Root,” Sameen strained as Root found the perfect places to caress and squeeze. “I should be … you know …(gasp) …annoyed ….,” Shaw tried to get out as Root got on her knees to beg forgiveness.

* * *

Isabelle kept dinner warm as things got hot upstairs and she texted her husband to say she’d be a little late. He reminded her that her employers weren’t the only couple madly in love. He was an understanding man.

Root noticed Sameen checking her phone more than once in the space of seconds over dinner. They didn’t want to talk about what happened that afternoon in front of Isabelle. Not because she couldn’t keep a secret; she could, but they didn’t want to involve her in anything that might be dangerous. Feeding Sameen was all the danger Root felt was acceptable for the woman who still wasn’t over being subdued by Ayala.

Sameen finally noticed Root looking at her. She pushed a piece of steak into her mouth before answering; “Fusco.”

“What does he want?” Root naturally asked.

Sameen swallowed hard, not because of the food, but because she wasn’t being honest with Root. “He …needs help,” she said and took a long drink of water.

“I’m not sure how you mean that, but I’m positive if anyone can help the good detective, it would be you,” Root smiled, her eyes beating her lips to it.

‘ _What does she have to be so damn adorable_?’ Shaw pondered in her head. ‘ _Not that I could lie any better if she were ugly_ ,’ she continued the monologue, ‘… _but still._ ’

“I was actually going to talk to Harry later. Do you want to be there for that?” Root asked, sipping her tea that Isabelle made before leaving.

“Me?” Shaw asked as if Root had just invited her to a Pampered Chef party. “No, you two nerds have fun.” She was too busy wondering where the heck Lionel was and why he hadn’t sent her a text.

* * *

“Okay, Carter, very funny,” the very same detective said as he came back to his desk to complete some paperwork that would explain how he knew to be in Brooklyn at the same time the Russian mob was going to be attacked by an unnamed rival. There was the _third_ copy of the information that he hadn’t even requested from any of his contacts. “Must be testing me,” he said as he shredded the latest copy. His phone rang and he groaned when he saw who it was. “And how can I be of service, your Impatientness?” he asked sarcastically. He knew exactly why she was calling.

“What?” Shaw asked, not getting his greeting. “Where is my list, Fusco?”

“Do you ever wonder why I’m at work so late? Did it ever occur to you that I might like to be home now, but am stuck at my desk doing paperwork because of your escapades?” he asked, hoping to throw Sameen off.

“Well, gosh Lionel, no I don’t think I ever have thought about it because when I think of you, I think of what a pain in the ass you are!” Sameen said in a low, impatient voice.

“Look, Shaw, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he tried to assuage her.

“Just give me the list,” she answered back furiously.

“Remember when Root wanted to find people who did stuff to you oversees? And how you told her she couldn’t and you were all mad about it?” he asked, because he remembered the things Shaw shared in private.

“This is _totally_ different!” Shaw said, and couldn’t believe she had to waste time explaining herself to him. Bear was looking at her very suspiciously.

“I think you might want to ask Root if she wants you to do this. It’s not chivalrous, Shaw. It’s stupid,” he said, and was feeling pretty good about how well he stated his argument.

Sameen was beyond livid that her simple request was being thwarted and denied. “Listen, Fusco,” she growled in a very low voice which confirmed to Lionel that she didn’t want Root to know. “Just get me those names or I swear, I will …..,” and she decided to pull out the big guns … unfortunately, and threatened to tell everyone how he tried to kiss her once.

Shaw had crossed a line.

“You ever do that and I promise you, Shaw, I will lock you up _without_ your girlfriend and eat the key,” Fusco warned back. Then, he hung up on her.

Yes, he – hung – up – on – Shaw. She had just reached the farthest point she had ever gone to threaten him and it was a low blow. Fusco was patient to a fault, but he had his limits. And she swore she’d never speak of that after it happened.

Now, it’s not that Sameen’s harsh answers didn’t deserve to be cut short, but she didn’t quite grasp that. “What?” she said, looking down at her phone as if she could not fathom what happened. “You … better not have hung up on me, Fusco,” she snarled as she hit redial.

No answer.

Redial.

No answer.

Redial.

Well, you get it.

“Aarrgh!” she said, but it wasn’t conveying all she was feeling. She looked around wishing she was at her apartment where she could easily throw something without messing up the décor. The last thing she needed right now was to feel sorry for Fusco, especially since she somehow felt it was his fault.

Then, her phone beeped and she looked down. “Oh, okay, that’s more like it,” she said, as the list of names appeared. Her conscience got the better of her and she pounded ‘Thank you’ back to Lionel. She waited a few seconds, but could tell the message hadn’t gone through. She stood there, shaking her head when she caught sight of Bear.

“Look, everyone thinks he’s an easy going guy, but he can be a pain in the ass,” she said defensively to the dog.

Bear wasn’t buying it and barked his disapproval.

“You try being with him,” she countered, but the dog snorted his disdain for her remark.

How the Belgian Shepherd’s big dark eyes reflected Shaw’s conscience back to her, she didn’t know, but it was effective.

“Fine!” she said, rolling her eyes at how annoying this dog was. “I’m going out,” she yelled to Root who was talking to Harold.

“Want company?” Root asked, even though she was in the middle of explaining everything to Harry.

“No, I’m just going to help Fusco with his paperwork,” Shaw explained, shoulders slumped and defeated.

“How did he get you to agree to that?” Root asked, happy to see them playing nice.

“How? Because he’s a huge pain in the ass and won’t leave me alone, that’s how,” Shaw said and then pointed her finger at Bear. “Don’t _bark_ it, buddy. Just don’t.”

With that, Shaw went on the elevator, the whole time saying under her breath that all she wanted to do was pay back some well deserving people, but she had to go apologize to Fusco instead. “And I have to stop for donuts, now,” she grumbled.

“Is ..she okay?” Root asked Bear.

He barked that he wasn’t entirely sure, but felt she was on the right track to making amends for being such a _bitch_ to Fusco.

Root listened to that long string of barks. “Language, Bear,” she reminded him.


	22. V For Vendetta

Ordinarily, when Shaw felt she had wronged her friend, she showed up with pizza … and beer; she would eat half the pizza and drink all the beer because guilt gave her an appetite. But she had been especially hard on Fusco lately with her mother returning and her feeling as if she couldn’t control the rush of emotions. When that happened, she poked at her friend. Perhaps, she thought, she had poked too hard this time. She was walking towards the pizza place when she spotted his favorite steak place and went there instead.

“No, I know you don’t have a ‘to-go’ menu,” she said to the Maitre’D with no patience and then flashed a fake badge. A delicious steak and potatoes were immediately wrapped up for her. She was there only a few minutes while she perused the room. When the man returned, she suggested he watch one of the wait staff because it seemed to her, he was reusing the same check for multiple tables. “That’s … illegal,” she winked in case he was in on it.

That was the thing about Shaw; she could spot a scam at thirty paces; it was the things up close she had trouble recognizing.

* * *

She entered the precinct where she received the usual warm welcome. “When you coming here full time, Shaw?” the desk sergeant asked.

“When hell freezes over,” Shaw shot back affectionately. Then she walked to the back, where her friend sat at his desk with the bank lamp on.

He was hunched over a stack of papers neglected when he was busy making sure his friends didn’t get in trouble. Shaw watched as Lionel tapped the keyboard using only his index fingers. “Oh, geez,” she murmured as she walked over. “You’re going to be here all night typing like that, Fusco.”

Lionel jumped at the sound and sight of the angry Persian. “What are you … what is that?”

“I was concerned, Lionel,” Shaw said in a sing-song voice. “Your phone must be broken and I was worried.”

“What?” he said, not feeling so brave now that the firecracker was standing in front of him. The fact that she was in a room filled with fellow police officers who were armed and would come to his defense was not a deterrent to Shaw and he knew it.

“Your phone?” she said, looking right at it on his desk.

“Yeah?” he yelled. “Well, I’m not talking to you, so goodbye.”

Shaw knew he was hurt and wanted to kick herself somewhere for causing it. “I brought you this,” she said, putting the package out in front of her.

“What for?” he asked, pulling his glasses down to peer up at her. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

“You know….,” Shaw said, putting the bag with the six-pack in it on the desk. “It’s getting heavy, Lionel.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he said, because with Sameen you could never be sure.

Sameen drew in a deep breath and turned her eyes, shaking her head. He wasn’t being easy going and she got it. “Fine,” she said and sat down in the chair next to his desk. “I was a complete jerk before,” she said and really hoped that covered all of her transgressions.  
It didn’t.

“And?” Lionel asked because he had his limits.

“And ….,” she said her jaw tightening because they were doing one of her least favorite things, which was to admit her faults. “…..I …. Uhm,” she stammered and then the words came to her. “…I don’t always say how much I appreciate all you do for me, for us, really and I know you always have my back.”

Lionel had rarely heard Shaw express her real feeling in complete sentences. Usually, her apologies came in the form of single word utterances. “Okay, then,” Lionel said, satisfied because he knew how hard this was for Sameen. “That steak for me?”

“How did you know it was …?” she asked surprised.

“They called before, saying a woman was flashing a phony badge,” Lionel said which wasn’t true; he could smell steak a block away.

“Did they?” Shaw asked and Lionel laughed that he got her.

“You know you can’t drink that out in the open, right?” he said when she opened a beer.

“Anyone who has ever had to work with you will excuse me, I’m sure,” she jabbed back.

He handed her his water bottle. “You working with me?” he asked, wondering why else she was there.

“Lionel, I saw you type. You won’t make it home for Lee’s college graduation at this rate. Move over,” she said and they switched seats so she could type the info into the computer on his cases. “Didn’t they teach you to use all ten fingers?”

“Only for eating, he said,” digging into the delicious meal that his friend brought.

* * *

An hour later, the tin container was wiped clean. “I can’t believe you didn’t want any,” he said because usually Shaw was right in there, sharing your meal.

“I was full from humble pie, remember?” Sameen kidded and it was the calmest he had heard her all day.

“Hey, so what’s this machine of your mother’s,” he whispered over the desk.

The beer that Sameen poured in the water bottle wasn’t touched the whole time she was there. Even now, she pushed it out of her way to talk. “I don’t know, Fusco. Some voyeuristic kind of thing that can tap into the hardware of places. I mean, what kind of crazy ass stuff is that? If you could tap into street cameras, why not tap into ….,” and she looked around. “Phones or ….”

“Fax machines?” Lionel asked, wondering out loud.

“Well, that’s like a phone. Is it cold back there in the twentieth century?” she teased and everything seemed back to normal between them.

“Look, Shaw, I’m sorry I didn’t want to give you that list,” he said as she typed away to finish up so she could get back to Root.

“No, I get it. You were looking out for me,” Shaw said, looking at the screen.

“Absolutely. I mean, you can’t go off on your own to someone’s house about something that happened so long ago,” he pointed out.

Of course now, Shaw was confused. “So, you’re coming with me, then?” she asked, to be clear.

“With you? No, I don’t want you to go; why would I go with you?” Fusco asked and looked at the beer to see if maybe she was drinking it, but she wasn’t.

Next to admitting she was wrong; Shaw hated to be confused. “Fusco, why would you send me that list if you didn’t want me to go?”

“I didn’t send it to you. I shredded the three copies that came across my desk,” he countered.

Shaw grabbed her phone, all the time shaking her head at how Fusco was losing it. “Look!” she said, and showed him the list of names and addresses.

Fusco pushed his glasses up to read the list and sure enough, he recognized it as the names he saw … three times before discarding them. He took his glasses off and sat back. “That’s the list, but I didn’t send it to you.”

“You had to have sent it to me,” she said, grabbing his phone, thinking a man who typed with two fingers didn’t understand how technology worked. “Who could have sent it, if you didn’t?” she asked, scrolling through his texts to see where his copy was. It wasn’t there. “Maybe you deleted it, you know, in your temper tantrum before.”

“Or maybe … it came from somewhere else,” he said and Shaw stopped scrolling through his phone. “I didn’t ask anyone for the names and yet, that list was here when I got back. I shredded it and not ten minutes later, another copy came over the fax. Three times I got it, Shaw and not once did I ask anyone for it.”

Now Shaw was really confused. She pushed back in the chair and stared at her phone which clearly showed the list came from Lionel’s phone. She knew it long before she said it because she was hoping her brain would come up with another alternative explanation. “That… that machine?” she asked, looking at Lionel.

At that very moment, the silence of the vacant room was broken by the sound of the fax machine delivering a message. Lionel got up to get it and looked at it before turning it so Shaw could see.

“ _Yes_ ,” it read.

Now, Shaw might have questioned how the hell her mother’s program was reaching out to them via a fax machine in the precinct where Lionel worked. She could have questioned why such a program was sending her the names of the people who Root had lived with for short periods of time. But Shaw’s goal was handing out a dose of vengeance to these bad people and so that is what she went with.

“Okay then; I need a change of clothing,” she said, getting up from the desk.

“You aren’t going to steal a police uniform, are you?” Fusco had to ask.

“No!” she snapped as if he were being utterly ridiculous. She grabbed her phone. “But I know a woman who lives nearby who is just my size.”

Now Lionel was faced with the dilemma of letting Shaw go out on this mission alone and wait for the call that she was arrested; or he could go with her and try to talk some sense into her. No, he needed a third option. He grabbed his phone and coat as Shaw walked out of the building. “No guns. I want everything that you have on your person, now.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, or what Shaw considered a lifetime of nagging, the two showed up at Janine’s apartment. She didn’t’ blink when Shaw asked her if she could borrow a dress; black, preferably. Within minutes, Shaw emerged in the tight fitting, low cut dress and shoes.

“Wow,” Janine said because the dress never looked like that on her. “You two going out?” she asked.

“You could say that,” Sameen answered and winked at her very efficient assistant.

“What are you going to do? Show up as the Social Worker on these cases?” Fusco fumed in a low voice.

Shaw thought that was a perfect idea. She was just going to let the sexy apparel get her in the door, but posing as the Social Worker would get her all the way inside. She asked Janine if she had a pair of glasses and the woman ran to get them. Shaw shook her hair loose and put them on. “Look the part?” she asked Lionel, but it was Janine who shouted – “YES!” and she wasn’t even sure what Shaw was referring to.

Whatever it was, Shaw was convincing.

Lionel decided to take advantage of the ever resourceful woman and asked if she had one more thing. Of course, she did, and he took it with him.

* * *

“Here,” Shaw said, handing Lionel all of her other clothes and boots.

“Yes, your insane majesty,” he said, trying to come up with a way to slow her down. When he refused to drive her any farther, she stuck two fingers in mouth and whistled loudly for a cab. ‘Never mind! Get in,” he said.

When they arrived at the first house, he went over it again. “Look, Shaw, don’t you think Root is looking for you right now? Shouldn’t you ask her …okay, wait,” he said when she rolled her eyes and started to get out. “No guns. And at the first sign of danger … no wait … make that at the first sign you are in over your head …throw something through that window. Promise?” he begged, sounding like an anxious parent dropping his kid off at the airport for a transatlantic trip.

“Yes, yes, I will,” Shaw said and got out and pulled her tight dress down.

“Who the hell is gonna believe she is a social worker,” he asked out loud and then waited.

* * *

Shaw rang the doorbell and the fact that it was almost eleven o’clock should have caused the residents some alarm. But when the man opened the door and saw Sameen on the porch, all logic escaped him.

“I don’t know what you’re selling; but I’m buying,” the man of the house said.

“Richard Phillips? Do I have that right?” Shaw said, looking down at her phone through her glasses.

“Yes, that’s right,” he said and opened the door. His wife called out from the kitchen and asked who it was, but he told her it was none of her business.

“Can I call you …. _Dick_?” Sameen asked.

“You can call me anything you like,” the man said back.

Shaw smiled … hard …because she had to be sure before she took care of him. He walked her into the living room and suggested they could both sit on the couch. She told him that she was checking on some old Child Services cases and that there might be money owed to some people who had fostered children years ago.

“You guys sure took your time,” he said and inched closer.

“We just have to check a few details,” she smiled and opened up an empty file. “Did you every house a Samantha Groves? I’m going back a few years now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I remember her,” the man said, and shook his head. “What a pain in the ass kid she was. Always running away and I’d have to go out and drag her back,” he complained.

“Gosh,” Shaw said, putting on her best act, “..I’m sorry we can’t pay you based on aggravation. It sounds like you had your hands full. What did you do?”

And this is where Richard… _Dick_ … Phillips signed his own death warrant.

“I’ll tell you, but it’s got to be off the record,” he whispered and Shaw could feel her heart beating in her chest.

“Of course,” she said and put her glasses in her bag.

“I tied the little bitch to the radiator,” he laughed. Still … after all those years … the man could call the memory forth and laugh.

“Oh, Dick,” Sameen said and took off her heels.

“Hey, what are you …?” he was about to ask when he found himself pulled up by the much shorter woman. “What the hell …” he tried to ask, but the blow to his face was so severe, it blinded him.

Sameen grabbed the man who was screaming in pain, closer to her so he could hear her. “You should _never_ _ever_ have touched Samantha Groves.”

* * *

Lionel was waiting a few houses down when he heard the explosion of something going through the glass of the picture window. He had his hand on the door, thinking that it was Shaw’s signal that she needed help.

Silly, Lionel.

Then, he saw her walking calmly down the front steps and towards the car. Except for a barking dog down the block, no one seemed to hear or pay attention to the racket. “One down,” Shaw said, getting into the car.

“Here,” Lionel said, handing her the ice packs he asked Janine if he could borrow. He knew his little avenger would need them. “It’ll keep the swelling down while you think of how you’re going to explain that to Root.”

“Oh,” Shaw said … just as her phone rang.

Lionel was afraid the most dangerous part of Shaw’s night was just beginning.


	23. Waves of Passion

For a woman who had tons of experience in working under extremely stressful conditions, and who could hold her aim perfectly still whilst bullets whizzed right near her; Fusco thought Shaw was oddly hesitant to take the call from Root.

“What … what do I say?” Sameen turned to her friend in the front seat and asked earnestly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say ... _Hey, I just threw a guy out a window who used to be your foster dad,_ ” Fusco answered.

There is a theory in linguistics that when under duress, a person often only hears the end of your declarative sentence. So, instead of picking up the phone and telling Root a white lie, Sameen caved and told her the truth.

“Hi, Sweetie, you busy?” Root said, wanting just to hear her girlfriend’s voice.

“I … I … ,” Sameen stammered, never having been in a relationship where it truly bothered her if she evaded the truth.

“Are you okay?” Root worried, but the question came across as a demand for an answer; which it wasn’t.

“Shaw,” Fusco warned as he headed through the Queens Midtown Tunnel to get them back to Manhattan.

“I just beat up Richard Phillips because I knew he was your foster parent!” Shaw said into the phone.

Then, there was dead silence, except for the pounding of Fusco’s heart. “Oh, geez, Shaw,” he finally moaned.

Sameen was thinking; ‘ _There, I said it_.’

Root wasn’t sure what she was thinking because she was trying to process those words.

“How?” Root finally asked, the whole time worried Sameen was hurt.

“I threw him through a window. After … I … uhm … hit him,” she said haltingly.

“Oh, geez,” Fusco said again and then heard Shaw say –

“Okay.” Then she hung up.

“What did she say?” her concerned friend asked.

“She said... we’ll talk about it when I get back,” Shaw repeated and he could tell she had no idea what that meant.

“You have no idea what that means, do you?” he asked, emerging from the dark tunnel.

“I have no idea what that means,” the inexperienced truth-sayer confirmed honestly.

Fusco could have put his flashing lights on to get them home faster, but he wasn’t entirely sure that was a good idea. He also didn’t know whether he should go upstairs with Shaw, to help plead her case, or leave her at the door and wish her luck. ‘We’ll talk it about it when you get back,’ was not good in any of Fusco’s previous experiences.

“Well, you know …,” Fusco started when he thought he couldn’t hear his friend breathing, “… Cocoa Puffs is usually pretty calm about things, right? So, you know ….”

He could see Shaw nod her head out of the corner of his eye, but she didn’t say anything. That was because she wasn’t sure what she thought. She was in uncharted territory. Sameen had settled plenty of scores on other people’s behalf, but not out of a sense of romantic gallantry.

* * *

By the time they reached the tall building, Fusco decided he was going upstairs.

“Where are you going?” Shaw said when she got out and he did, too.

“I’m carrying … your clothes,” he tried.

“I can carry ….,” Sameen said, but not with conviction.

“I’m going up with you. If she’s going to be upset with you, maybe I can … help,” he suggested and only hesitated a moment when he wondered if he should get the bulletproof vests out. Just … in case.

This was usually the part where Sameen yelled at Lionel for being so ridiculous for even suggesting that she, Sameen Shaw, needed ANY kind of assistance. Instead, she said … “Okay.”

Shaw felt foolish as she rode up in the elevator. What could Fusco do that she couldn’t manage herself? Okay, maybe she could stick him between them if necessary.

* * *

Root had been so excited about what she and Harold discussed regarding the machine that she wanted to see where Sameen was to tell her. She thought it was so sweet of her to go to the precinct and help Fusco. He really was a very good friend; a curmudgeon sometimes, but he always looked out for Shaw, and that meant a great deal to Root.

She had hung up with Sameen quickly only because she was dealing with a flood of emotions upon hearing that man’s name out of the blue. She had had some terrible experiences in foster care and he was the worst. Some just had terrible parenting skills, but this guy was only in it for the money. Her throat almost closed when she heard his name. She told Sameen they’d talk about it when she got back, but she had done nothing but think about it after her knees gave out and she collapsed on the couch. She hated when buried memories rose up to slap her in the face.

Root saw to financially ruin anyone she could that had mistreated her, but found it was more complicated that just transferring funds out of a bank account. She finally decided to hack records so that no one would ever give another child to some of these families. Through her genius programming, these people were blacklisted where no such list had ever existed before.

Root thought she was done with them.

But when she heard his name tonight, memories of what he did crashed down on her. The thought of Sameen anywhere near that man, made Root boil with anger. Then, she repeated what Shaw had said, and took that in.

Shaw – had – gone – to – defend – her.

No one had ever done that for Root in her life. Harry saved her from the streets, but he was never down in the gutter with her. Shaw was, and she was fighting battles for her.

Bear heard the elevator approaching and ran to the entryway. He was so confused. If Root and Shaw were to argue, he didn’t know whose side he would be on. Of course, he should be on Root’s side because he owned her, but that little one was an alpha in her own way, and he didn’t like to admit it, but she scared him. “No! Root!” he decided. Although he had worked so hard to train the other one. All that thinking made him lie down and whine.

Root stood there, collecting her thoughts. Wait! Hadn’t Sameen been upset with her when she wanted to do the very same thing? Of course, her plan did include hiring Cole and his team to flush out international interrogators who had hurt Sameen. But she had been so upset with Root for trying to do the very thing she did that night! Still, the thoughts of Shaw fighting for her honor were unbelievably exhilarating.  “God, Bear …,” she said to her confidante. “She’s … my knightress in shining armor,” she whispered to Bear as tears ran down her face.

Bear whined the obvious counter argument.

“Yes,” Root said, dabbing her tears, “ …she did put herself in danger and we’ll talk about that.”

* * *

The closer the elevator got to the Penthouse, the more the decorated-for-bravery detective thought this was the craziest idea he ever had. Getting in the middle of two women? Who were going to have a difference of opinion? And one of them was nuts? And the other was five foot three inches of rage when she got upset. “Oh God!” Fusco said out loud when the revelation came to him. “I’m the crazy one!”

“What?” Sameen said, annoyed he was thinking about himself when she was the one in the difficult situation.

“You know I can’t shoot an unarmed person, right?” he asked as they arrived.

“What makes you think she’s unarmed?” Shaw said, because that’s how she thought about conflicts.

The door opened; the two stepped into the waiting area and there was Root. Whatever Root might have been thinking about, flew out of her mind when she saw Sameen standing there – in a black, sexy dress, heels, her hair down over her shoulders, and looking nervous. The woman had just thrown a six foot, two hundred pound man through a window for her. She was her protector.

“I …,” Sameen started to say just as Fusco said – “So, listen ….,” and Bear barked because he noticed the bump on Shaw’s head.

But Root didn’t hear them.

She raced at her girlfriend – causing Sameen to stare wild-eyed because she thought she was going to get hit. Fusco held onto Shaw’s clothes and closed his eyes. He couldn’t watch. And Bear … ran and hid. When Fusco heard the crash of bodies and the thud of one being pushed up against the wall, he painstakingly opened one eye. But the sight brought him a quizzical sense of …relief.

“Oh, my God, Sameen,” Root was saying right before she pressed her hard against the wall and kissed her so forcefully that Shaw got lightheaded.

All Fusco could hear was the sound of Root’s kissing his friend … a lot.

“Woot?” Sameen said, her lips not yet able to produce and “R” because someone had their tongue in her mouth. Root’s hands were traversing her body so hard, that Sameen wasn’t sure if Root was trying to grab at her. Finally, Root pulled back enough to see the bump on Shaw’s head.

“You head-butted him?” Root asked, but it wasn’t so much a question Sameen noticed as it sounded like a declaration of admiration.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, and looked over at Fusco who offered no confirmation that Root was enamored with the gesture. He was more confused than Shaw.

“Oh, Sameen,” Root said, but it was the tone you use when your girlfriend brings you a dozen roses, or in Root’s case, the latest Apple gadget.

Fusco heard it, too and decided his friend was more than safe. “I’ll just put these ….,” he said as he put Shaw’s clothes down on the table and went back to the elevator. “Everything is just fine,” he whispered as he got in and left.

* * *

“Root, I….,” Shaw started because she had convinced herself that Root’s tone sounded annoyed.

“No talking,” Root said, unzipping Shaw’s dress and pulling it off.

“But, you said …,” Shaw pointed out.

“God, Sameen, you are so …. Look at those arms,” Root said, fires building inside her as she touched the steel like muscles in her lover’s arms. She was literally pushing Sameen and walking her backwards, unable to control her feelings of wanting to touch her everywhere.

“Is your head okay? Your hand?” Root said, gently touching both wounds.

“Yes, but you said …,” Shaw repeated until she realized she was falling back.

Root pushed her back on the dining room table, after sweeping it clear and sending dishes crashing to the floor.

“Oh,” Shaw said, her emotions already turned up. She pushed up at Root and pulled at her, sending the buttons on her blouse flying as she ripped it opened and off. Within seconds, Root was turned and pushed down as Sameen ran her hands steadily up and down the length of her body.

It was the hottest game of tug-of-war either had ever known.

Root pushed up and grabbed Sameen, pulling her in so tightly, she couldn’t move her arms.

“Thank you,” Root said, and let go of Shaw so she could see the tears in her eyes.

“I would do anything for you,” Sameen declared.

Root embraced her again, tightly. “How did I ever get so lucky …,” she started to ask, but Shaw pushed her back on the table and pulled their remaining clothes off and tossed them.

“No talking,” Shaw smiled devilishly as she began to do things that would leave Root ... speechless.


	24. X Marks the Spot(s)

Sameen couldn’t remember the last time their lovemaking took them from the dining room table, to the living room floor, to the couch, to the long staircase, up to the bedroom … floor …., and then finally, the bed. It seemed to her that Root couldn’t stop grabbing at her, pulling at her, pushing her down. She was pretty sure every part of her had been … in a word … bitten. Shaw’s arms and legs were exhausted, but she still felt a deep sense of wonderful that radiated throughout her body. She didn’t want to open her eyes, but could hear Root whispering to the inquisitive third wheel.

“I think you’re confusing your chewing the remote with Sameen’s actions, Bear,” she said softly to the dog who was confused about how Sameen’s penalties always seemed to make her happy. Very happy.

He whined his counter argument.

“Well, yes, I did bite her,” Root admitted, using vernacular the dog would understand.

He looked over at Sameen’s lifeless body. He all but said _okay_ as he barked. At least she was bitten, he thought. He had no more time for these two; as he was late for yoga. He would later whine his entire way to the park with his assistant, Daan, and plead his case.

Root moved slowly up the bed and kissed the bare shoulder of her lover. “Oh,” escaped her lips when she realized that Sameen was now sporting several love bites. She pulled the sheet down to look at Sameen’s naked body. “Yep,” she said, “…there, too.”

The glorious injured party turned to face the woman who had marked her in several places. One look at Root’s guilty expression prompted her to say – “What do you have to say for yourself, Samantha Groves?”

Root’s eyes burst with laughter as she bit her lip and pleaded that given how blessed Shaw was with an exquisite body, no one would blame her for tasting it.

“I think you were doing more than tasting,” Sameen said, pulling Root down so her head was on her bare shoulder.

Root let her fingers drape along Sameen’s bare neck and then breasts. “I was sort of … physical,” Root admitted, now thinking about it and seeing just how many places she left her calling mark.

“You _think_?” Sameen said, laughing. “You could play connect the dots …,” she decided, looking at her speckled body.

“Oh, I would love to,” Root agreed and began doing just that with a gently touch from spot to spot. When her hand reached Shaw’s derriere, she explained, “Oh, my God, Root! There, too?” and then the two erupted into laughter.

* * *

Root didn’t dare discuss what she and Harold talked about while they ate breakfast because Isabelle was present. She said she would fill Shaw in at work. This left the two to simply sit at the breakfast island in the kitchen and stare at each other.

“Would you look at that?” Isabelle commented and broke the couple’s reverie. “Man falls out of window,” she read as the headline appeared on the television set in the kitchen.

Root smiled, but Shaw choked as the reporter commented that – “… a man fell through his own picture window in Queens last night…..”

“How _does_ that even happen?” Isabelle asked, shutting the news off.

“I don’t know!” Root said in a sing song voice and looked directly at Sameen who had regained her composure.

“Probably pissed off the wrong person,” Shaw retorted.

“You think he was pushed?” Isabelle asked because the news said he fell.

“Big guy like that? Would have to be someone very strong,” Root continued the charade.

“Or … very motivated,” Sameen smiled back.

Isabelle knew she wasn’t getting it, but she was glad to see her favorite couple enjoying themselves. Still, she wondered, how does a person fall out of their own window?

* * *

The couple arrived at work just as Fusco was stopping by to check on Sameen. “Do you _have_ my phone number?” Shaw asked him because he had a habit of showing up at her workplace.

“I actually have other business here, Maybelline,” he said and didn’t mention that it was to drop off Iris’ purse that she left at his place last night. It was very late by the time she came over and she was gone before breakfast.

“You know that clashes with your shoes,” Shaw said, spying the pocketbook under his arm.

“And all is right with the world,” Root said of the two friends, back to their usual banter. “I will see you in a little while,” she said and kissed Shaw goodbye.

“Oh, _that_ is so _sweet_ ,” Fusco teased, because in a serious game of ball-busting, you have to take every strike. It’s the only way to play it.

“You know when I come to work, I’m armed, right?” Shaw attempted to threaten him, but she was a little off her game because she had such an exhilarating morning.

“You know I’m a cop, right?” Fusco said right back and the score was in his favor.

“Yeah, and when we’re shooting cardboard targets, you’d win,” Shaw tried, but got lost in her words.

“Crap, Shaw,” Fusco said, his attention completely distracted by the sight of Shaw’s neck and arms. She had forgotten that her apparel that day needed to cover up some things. “You’re hurt. Did he put his hands on you and you didn’t tell me!”

Fusco could go from pain in the ass friend to protector in seconds.

“What? What happened to you?” Janine jumped up at the sound of someone saying Sameen was hurt. “OH MY GOD!” she all but screeched when she saw the marks on Shaw. “GET ME ICE!” she yelled out to anyone who could listen and someone ran to get it.

“What the hell, Fusco?” Shaw said, unable to connect the dots. She thought he was still kidding, but he wasn’t – he thought she was hurt in the altercation.

“Did he touch you?” he yelled seriously to Shaw and Janine rushed to put an ice pack on … well, almost everywhere she could see a bruise.

“What? No, Fusco, no,” Shaw tried to convey that he should stop and think. “I’m okay,” she said, and tried to move away from the icy sensation, but Janine was too quick.

“What did you do to her?” Janine yelled at the detective, because last she knew, the two went out together.

“I didn’t do this,” Fusco said defensively.

Shaw was mumbling something to them to explain, but neither heard her because they were bickering with each other.

“What did you say?” Janine finally asked, as people gathered to see what the commotion was over.

“I am not hurt. These are … these are …,” the woman who lacked the tenacity to share personal details attempted to explain, but couldn’t.

“Mine,” they heard and Fusco and Janine turned to see Root standing there, proud as could be. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to borrow your favorite person,” she said to the people fawning over Shaw.

“Please just shoot me now,” Shaw said and Reese, who was in the crowd, apologized for not being able to do so.

“I could only kneecap you, Shaw,” he said sympathetically. “Company policy.”

* * *

As Janine and Fusco continued their discussion about why they thought she was hurt, Root walked with her arm around Shaw onto the elevator. “Well, that .... ,” Shaw said and was trying to come up with a word that would convey – worse than embarrassing.

“Didn’t suck?” Root offered, trying to alleviate Sameen’s fear of PDA’s.

“Oh, there was _plenty_ of sucking,” Shaw said, laughing at her own joke … and because she was in an elevator alone with Root … where no one else could see them.

Suddenly, Shaw’s phone beeped and she looked down at the text; “ _Good one_ ,” it said.

“What the hell?” Shaw replied, unable to tell who had sent the text.

“Oh, yes,” Root said, looking down at Shaw’s phone. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Who is this, Root?” Shaw demanded to know.

“Well,” Root said as they arrived at her floor. “The machine.” The elevator door opened and Root emerged, walking towards her office. But Sameen couldn’t wait that long.

“What? Wait, you want to tell me that you gave that machine my phone number and that you put it on our family plan? Is that what this is?” Shaw yelled, unnerved that the thing was contacting her. “I swear to God, Root, if it starts calling me with that weird voice-over thing, I’ll shoot my phone!”

“We’re just …testing it a little,” Root said as she pulled Sameen into her office and closed the door.

Shaw stared at her for a minute and then shared; “There is not one word of that sentence that I like. I don’t like the ‘ _we_ ’ because that means you and Super-nerd; I don’t like the ‘ _just_ ’ because you’re saying it to make me feel better, and I really don’t like the word ‘ _testing_ ’ as in the machine is experimenting with us, and to cap it off, ‘ _a little_ ’ is … too much.”

Root had to admit, Shaw certainly summed up her feelings very well in that one rant.

“Let me just explain what we were thinking,” Root said, and thought she really should have had some food brought in for this discussion.

“Go ahead, but I’m not going to like it,” Sameen declared, her arms crossed in front of her.

Root adeptly sent a text for some food to be brought up, in hopes that it would help alleviate some of the inevitable angst.

She was almost certain Sameen was not going to like it.


	25. Y R U Doing This?

“Did Root say …?” Fusco was asking the last person on the earth he ordinarily would ask. Except when it came to ice packs, it seemed. He still owed her two from the night before.

“She had a bump on her head, though. Root didn’t do that, did she?” Janine pondered out loud.

Reese listened for a second and just shook his head, knowing no good could come of this conversation between these two.

“No, the bump is from last night when she head-butted that guy,” Fusco said as if Janine was in on the story. He caught himself when the woman started to yell; “She what?” “Yeah, I gotta go,” Fusco said, holding up the pocketbook which only made things worse. Then he caught sight of John not paying them any attention. “Hey, Tall-Dark-and Brooding, you’d think you’d help a guy. Geesh.”

“I know a disaster when I see one, Lionel,” Reese replied.

“Ahh,” Lionel said disgusted with the lack of support, and walked away, heading to the only other sane person he knew at this company.

* * *

Upstairs, things weren’t going much better for Shaw. When word got around that she had been beautifully injured in the line of amorous duty, everyone wanted to see. Bear was the only one allowed into Root’s office, so he had the advantage. He made himself quite comfortable on the couch, hoping the tension in the room didn’t spoil his yoga induced calmness. He barked his ‘Namaste’, but when Shaw asked what was up with him, he shook his head and barked; “S _o much work, so little time_.”

Shaw rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. “And what possessed you two to think it was a good idea to include me in this experiment with Robbie Robot?” Shaw asked and Root hesitated only a minute while she said a silent prayer that the food would arrive soon.

A light tap on the door signaled it was there and Root smiled and said – “Let me get that!” Even Bear knew it was a ploy, but not a big enough one for him to pick his head up and throw Root any shade.

“Here we go,” she said sweetly, laying out the food in front of Shaw and then taking her omelet and sitting right across from her.

“You know it’s ….,” Shaw was going to point out it was only ten o’clock, but then she felt hungry so she cut up the pancakes. “NutasgoodasIzabell’s,” she noted, but ate anyway. “Go on.”

“Well, Harry and I talked for hours last night, you know, while you were out defending my honor. Did I thank you for that?” Root cooed.

“Yeah, about six dozen times according to Janine’s last count on my body,” Shaw smiled. She wiggled her finger in a circle to get Root back on track.

“Yes, well, what we decided to do was to incorporate a part of the program into a separated, segregated, dedicated unit,” Root started.

“That’s a lot of ‘ _ated’s_ ’ “ Shaw noted, letting Root know she was listening. “And….?”

“And this way, we could test the program’s applications and potentials,” Root went further.

“You know it sent me the list, right?” Shaw asked, having figured out how the info got on her phone.

“I’m not surprised,” Root admitted. “Sameen…,” and this was where Root put her fork down and really hoped the food was putting Shaw in a good mood, “… Harry doesn’t yet agree with me on this, but I think there’s something personal about the program.”

“I think you’re right,” Shaw agreed too readily.

“You do?” Root asked, thrilled that Sameen might be open to hearing her theories.

“Yeah, it’s annoying me, and I’m taking that personally,” Shaw retorted.

“No,” Root smiled, her eye conveying that was cute, but not what she meant. “…. It seems to lock onto you or me.”

“Root, you know who is behind that program right? You know Azar has had a lot of time to tinker away from her ivory tower at the Waldorf or at the New York Public Library while the rest of us have lives, right?” Shaw tried.

“Sameen, Harry and I started writing some scenarios to see what it would do,” Root started again. “Each time we did, it came up with a solution based on probabilities and outcomes.”

“Did it tell you the probability of me not liking this whole thing?” Shaw said, after swallowing another bite.

Root’s face gave away the answer even before she attempted to respond.

“What? What did it say?” Shaw said, because she could take offense from a machine just as easily as she did from Bear … or the Parks Deli owner … or the man who looked at her the wrong way … or, well you get the idea. She got offended easily.

“It predicted the probability would be high,” Root said and Sameen immediately asked how high. “Ninety five point seven percent.”

“How the hell does it know that? How the hell would it know that I am not buying this all-seeing all-knowing metal Wizard of Oz?” she yelled.

“It’s a program of algorithms and code,” Root answered seriously.

“Well,” Sameen continued with a smug look at her face, “it’s wrong.”

“Really?” Root asked earnestly because she felt serious about statistics and probability.

“Yeah, I hate it … one hundred percent,” Shaw delivered her line and sat back satisfied. She could tell from Root’s reaction that the woman doubted that was actually true. “Are you taking that …. That thing’s side?”

“No,” Root assured her very sensitive girlfriend. “But think about it, Sameen. The universe is infinite and chaotic and cold.”

Shaw stopped eating and looked up at Root. “Thanks for the rousing pep talk.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Root said, catching how dire her message sounded. “Here’s what we were thinking. If this machine can aid us in anyway, let’s see what it can do with us first. It sent you the list of names; it asked me if I would help. I think it can do some good. In the right hands.”

Shaw let out a long sigh and shook her head. She hated when Root appealed to her inner sense of good versus evil. “Fine,” she said in a tone that meant anything else but that. She also could tell from Root’s manner that she wouldn’t give up until she got her way. Sameen figured she’d give in now, and shoot it later. “What do we do?”

Shaw’s lukewarm enthusiasm was enough to excite Root who whipped out her laptop and showed Sameen the screen. It was scrolling with code that Root had written to see what the machine would come back with. “We aren’t moving its core heuristics, mind you ….,” Root explained and Shaw let out “Oh, wise choice,” because she had no idea what the hell that meant. “Harry is in his office right now teaching it chess!”

“Any chance it can go shoe shopping with you?” Shaw asked making a funny smile.

In spite of the grin on Root’s face at Shaw’s joke, she became very serious. “I have to tell you something else.”

“Oh, more good news,” Shaw said sarcastically and Bear moaned a little because she was giving off negative energy.

“I think it’s female,” Root said, bracing herself for Shaw’s yelling. Instead, much to Root’s surprise, she burst out laughing.

“It’s a woman? It’s a …woman? I would have thought something so damn annoying was going to be male. You know, like Fusco, or Reese, or Harry … or …,” and she jerked her head over towards the only male in the room.

He was going to growl his discontent, but he had a better idea. He got off the couch, stretched and walked out of Root’s office. Then he went straight to the one person who could annoy Shaw more than he could.

“I’m pretty sure it is,” Root confirmed of the AI’s identity.

“Well, a woman kind of worked on it, so maybe it took Azar’s personality,” Shaw reasoned. “Although if it talks to me and it sounds like my mother, I’m shooting it.”

Root could tell that, like Sameen’s other relationships with humans, dogs and things, this would take some gentle massaging; – something, Root felt, she was an expert in. “I want you to come with me to Harry’s office later this afternoon and just see what it’s doing, okay?” Root asked in the sweetest of voices.

Shaw didn’t want to admit it, but when Root used that syrupy tone and made those big eyes at her, she had a hard time saying no. “Okay,” Sameen agreed and finished her food. “Did you order this just so I would be more agreeable?” she asked astutely.

Root’s head swayed and her eyes lit up with the answer. “Maybe,” she said, her eyes confessing yes.

“Well, I appreciate the gesture, but I trust you, Root. I really do,” Shaw said and her words melted Root right there and then. But before Root could swoon openly, Shaw added; “It’s the machine I don’t trust.”

_Well, one step at a time_ , Root thought.

* * *

Just then, there was a commotion outside Root’s office door as the two administrative assistants battled it out. Jill, Root’s secretary, insisted she was not to be disturbed. But Janine was a woman on a mission and after hearing Bear whine about Shaw, no one and nothing was going to stop her.

Now, to hear Bear’s side of the story … he simply went to Janine and barked a few times. She filled in the blanks. “Is it Shaw?” Bark. “Is she hurt?” Bark. “Is it those bites to her flesh?” Bark . “Does she need me?” Double bark.

And that was all it took.

Bear watched as the woman went scrambling to get the things listed on the computer after she Googled what the possible cures were. She couldn’t even wait for the one hour delivery from Amazon and insisted on running downstairs to the closest pharmacy to get the necessary items. She was like a runaway train and Bear watched when she returned and got ready to find Shaw.

* * *

As good as Jill was, she was no match for an armed Janine who felt she was the only thing that stood between Shaw and possible death. Granted, there were no actual reported deaths from hickies, but Janine was not taking any chances.

She banged on Root’s door even though Jill was insisting she not do that. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Groves, I really am,” Jill said as the other woman rushed in and knelt in front of Shaw with her bag of remedies. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer,” the older woman explained.

“It’s okay,” Root assured her. “She’s got kind of a crush on Shaw. But don’t tell her.”

“Don’t tell … Ms. Shaw?” Jill asked, wondering what Sameen thought.

“Don’t tell either one of them,” Root smiled. If anyone understood another person’s complete infatuation with Sameen, it was Root. She felt people couldn’t help themselves, and often extended them that understanding.

Sameen did not see it like this at all. She often felt it was the world’s way of punishing her for not returning a library book, or littering, or not being kind to that old guy in the bank one time that annoyed her. Sameen thought it was karma paying her back.

“What the hell?” Sameen commented as she pushed back in the chair, but had nowhere to go. “Root?” she called out for help.

Root smiled at Jill – the kind of expression you use when your girlfriend needs your help. “What do we have here?” she asked, instead of throwing Janine out like Shaw wanted her to.

“ROOT?” Shaw asked and felt like she had been volunteered to be the mock patient.

“This is peppermint oil,” the would-be medic said and rubbed some on Shaw’s arm. “It improves blood circulation and heals the capillary vessels that you …,” she said looking right at Root and then choked, “…that are broken.”

“Do you smell that?” Shaw said of the powerful minty smell. “Really, it’s okay,” she tried, but she was a complete amateur at deflecting her admirer.

Root’s smile was just the encouragement the well-meaning woman needed. “This is aloe vera gel,” she said, dabbing it on. The cold sensation made Shaw jump.

“I’m really okay. Thank you. None of these….” She tried, but no one was listening.

“You can massage this into the bruise two to three times a day. I actually bought you an aloe vera plant,” the woman said, producing the plant and placing it on the table. Addressing Root again, she instructed how to get the gel like substance from the leaves.

“I don’t believe this,” Shaw moaned, her arms and neck sticky, cold and smelly.

“For those … uhm … more sensitive spots,” Janine said and Shaw had enough. She jumped up from the chair, but the woman thought she was demonstrating where a sensitive spot might be. “You might want to try Vitamin K lotion.” She got up and handed the bottle to Root. She turned and smiled at Shaw, concern written all over her face.

“You know I was a doctor, right?” Shaw said, hoping to impress upon the helper that she knew what to do.

“Physician, heal thyself,” Janine said with great feeling.

“Root?” Shaw said, because this was far beyond her interpersonal skills.

“Thank you, Janine,” Root said, with the biggest grin on her face. “This has been … really helpful,” the CEO smiled broadly.

Shaw just turned and stared at her, wondering how she could do anything to encourage the already overzealous assistant.

“I would do anything for her,” Janine said to Root and there was no doubt about it.

Root looked over at Shaw who, every time she looked at a patch on her arm covered in something, moaned out loud. “What?” Shaw asked, because there was a purpose behind that stare. She finally got it when she realized Janine was not moving. Forced to express her gratitude, Sameen caved. “Thank you ..for …making me sticky and smelly.”

It didn’t matter about the words or the sentiment that Sameen conveyed; she was acknowledging Janine’s help and the woman was past thrilled. “You’re welcome!” she said, hugging a very stiff bodied Shaw.

With that, Florence Nightingale left the couple alone.

“Are you crazy for encouraging her?” Shaw demanded to know, but Root was almost giddy as she looked in the bag. “She won’t leave me alone now, thanks to you.”

“Do you have any idea …,” Root said, her eyes wide with anticipation, “…how much fun it is going to be applying all these things?”

“It smells!” Sameen complained, missing the point as usual.

“Over every one of your spots?” Root pointed out.

“And it’s cold,” Sameen said, missing it again.

“And I mean …,” Root said slower so Sameen could catch up, “….every one of them.”

Then Root waited patiently while the suggestive notion found its way to Shaw’s brain.

“Ohhh,” she said when she got what Root was saying. “I have a lot of them.”

“Yes, I know,” Root beamed proudly. “I put them there.”


	26. Zigzag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't notice, I named this chapters hoping to keep myself to 26; one of each letter of the alphabet. Well, I'm up to "Z" and not quite done.  
> I hope you'll tolerate a few more. (Not 100, I promise). Oh, I shouldn't have promised that.

Shaw left Root’s office with a very different outlook on what her enthusiastic assistant had just done to her. Leave it to her girlfriend to see the silver lining in just about everything. She wondered what prompted Janine to rush to her aid and then caught sight of Bear, sitting near Janine’s desk while she fawned over him, thanking him for alerting her. Shaw gave him a stern look and put her two fingers to her eyes and then pointed at him, but he looked at her like he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Gee, Shaw, you smell kind of … intense,” Reese said, coming up behind her.

“I…it’s the….she ….,” Shaw started, but that was taking too long for John to wait.

“Please don’t sit near me in the meeting, okay?” he asked. He turned his head away because the combination of scents was overwhelming.

“It’s helping her heal,” Janine stood up and chastised John.

“Yeah, what she said,” Shaw retorted. Reese walked away, but Sameen caught him sniffing his very expensive suit jacket to see if the odor had somehow permeated the fine threads. She would have ignored the man, but Fusco was on his way back from visiting Iris and complained about the smell.

“What the heck is that?” he yelled out. “It’s like a fruit tree exploded in the perfume aisle. In July.”

Shaw groaned and expected that Janine would take care of her annoying detective friend who was on the elevator now. Instead, she poked her head up and said sheepishly – “Maybe I did overdo it.”

“Ya think?” Shaw said, aware now that she had nasal fatigue and couldn’t smell it.

Just then, Janine’s phone rang and she told them she would ask. Covering the mouthpiece now, she asked Sameen if she wanted to see Azar Morin. The woman had actually stopped at the Security Desk this time.

“I would rather be doused again in aloe vera and peppermint oil,” Shaw answered. Janine told them her boss was busy.

“You know, Shaw, if you want to try and lighten that … that … fragrance, you could shower in the locker room,” Martine suggested. The fact that she had her hand over her nose as she spoke, made Sameen think she might be on to something.

“I’ll get towels, and soap,” Janine yelled. “Do you want shampoo? I’m guessing you use very expensive shampoo on your hair.”

“I don’t,” Shaw said and backed away with her hands out in front of her. “And I can …use what ..I’m good. Really.”

Martine had to smile at how much Janine wanted to help, but interceded on her friend’s behalf and told the woman that they had everything Shaw needed in the shower.

“But I bet the towels are really rough,” Janine pondered, having never used the facility.

“O…kay,” Martine said because even though she liked Sameen, she didn’t worry about the texture of the towels.

* * *

Shaw was just happy to escape the careful eye of her devoted assistant and to get rid of the smell that was making people back away from her. She could only imagine what Harold would do if she walked into his office later. She laughed out loud as she imagined he would ask her to leave and then call in the heavy duty sanitizers.

Shaw undressed and stepped into the shower, only then noticing that the homeopathic applications actually had helped. “Well, what do you know,” she remarked amazed at the improvement. She took her time showering, and noticed that, in spite of several employees in the outer gym area, the locker room seemed remarkable quiet. In fact, she was certain she was the only one there. Then, it dawned on her.

“Sonova ….,” she said, grabbing the towel and putting it around her wet body. She shoved her feet into her boots, her hair still dripping wet, and opened the stall door.

She knew it!

“Hello, mother,” she said – not surprised to see the woman sitting on the changing bench. “God, you don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

Azar sat there, dressed to the nines as usual. “I told you, Sameen. This is bigger than you and me now. I know you don’t want to see me …”

“Yes, that was made abundantly clear when I told them not to let you upstairs,” Shaw remarked. “Where is your bodyguard?”

Ayala appeared on cue, having put up a sign that the locker room was temporarily unavailable. “She needed to see you,” the younger woman said and it was one of the few times Sameen could remember her talking directly to her. “What … happened to you?” she asked, upon seeing the bright red marks on Shaw’s body. The hot water had enhanced them.

There were so many of them.

Suddenly feeling every bit as naked as she practically was, Shaw retreated to the stall to get dressed. “You can’t just keep coming here, ladies. I mean, really, take a freaking hint already,” Shaw yelled out to her visitors.

“I tried the conventional way, dear, but you refused to see me,” Azar noted.

“I wonder why?” Shaw replied sarcastically. “What did you guys want again?” she asked, dressed and emerging from the enclosure.

“The machine is online now with Root. That’s good. She and Mr. Finch are amazing with what they’ve managed to do in a short time. Now, you must do something for me,” Azar said and Sameen was astounded at how dead serious she was.

“I? Must? Something for you?” Sameen repeated, each one of those phrases annoying her. “Do you remember what I did last time? Did that not impress upon you that I am an aggressive person with anger issues?” she yelled, hinting at how she had struck the woman.

“You’re telling me,” Ayala said out of the side of her mouth and Shaw took a step towards her.

“I haven’t even started on you,” Sameen said to the woman who was supposed to be her sibling.

“Sameen!” Azar said and the tone was unmistakably parental.

And Sameen’s expression was a little bit short of – “ _Well, she started it!_ ”

“All I ask is that you wait with me, here, for a few minutes.” Azar explained.

“You can manage that, can’t you?” Ayala taunted and Shaw couldn’t believe the audacity of this person.

“You know I can almost believe this is your daughter; she takes after you. Annoying to the bone,” Sameen said, directly to Azar.

The perfectly dressed woman sat there calmly, her legs crossed with her arm still crooked through the expensive pocketbook. “Girls,” she said and that was definitely maternal. “Please just wait with me and then, Sameen, if all goes as I expect it to, I will be leaving.”

There was something in the way she said that that caught Sameen’s attention. “What … what does that mean?” she heard herself asking and then grimaced at not being able to control her curiosity.

“Now,” Azar instructed her bodyguard and ignored Sameen’s question.

The younger woman pulled a gun from behind her … and aimed it at Sameen.

Shaw.didn’t.flinch. That’s right – Sameen Shaw stared the armed woman right in the eye and didn’t move. Not a muscle. “I will kill you,” she warned the younger woman who had the gun aimed at her head. “I will kill her and then I will take care of you,” she said to Azar.

The older woman was watching – no terribly surprised by Sameen’s response. But that’s not what she was there for. She was waiting for something else to happen.

And it was just about to.

The bathroom door crashed open, having been kicked in by a woman possessed. They all turned to see Root standing there, armed and looking very dangerous. “Get away from her, bitch.” Root said angrily.

Shaw had seen Root armed before and angry, but not quite like this. Her usually smiling eyes were wide with contempt and focused on the woman she was holding the gun on. “Mother?” Sameen said because she did not want Root hurt.

“Ayala,” Azar said and the woman lowered her gun. “You were never in danger, Sameen.”

“I fucking know that,” Sameen yelled and watched as Ayala opened the barrel to show it was empty. “You two ….are both …insane!”

“I had to do this, Samantha,” Azar explained and Root didn’t move.

She had been upstairs in her office, tinkering with the program, when a message appeared in what she was noticing was the machine’s particular font. “Sameen is in danger” is what appeared on the screen.

“I know that nothing I do seems conventional to you,” Azar said and Sameen went over to Root and slowly took the gun out of her hand. She was not convinced the woman hadn’t been pushed over the edge with this latest ploy.

Then Azar stood up. “I had to make sure the machine would protect you, Sameen, before I leave.”

“It would be a genius if it would protect me from you two!” Shaw shouted.

Azar smiled the smile you use when tolerating the other person’s outburst. “I have to go abroad for a while and I needed to make sure that you two would be protected.”

“I protect her!” both Shaw and Root shouted at Azar.

The woman smiled at the perfect timing of those responses. “Yes, I know. But if you should allow the machine to work with you, I needed to know it would guard both of you.” Then, she walked closer to the couple, Ayala following behind her. “I am sorry that we connected under these circumstances, Sameen. I hope one day you’ll believe me that I did the best I could.”

Shaw just stared at the woman who constantly interrupted her life. But Root was already calculating what had happened ….and why.  “We … don’t have the whole machine, do we?” Root asked, because she knew there had to be a core somewhere and Azar wasn’t mentioning that.

“You have what you need,” the woman said cryptically. “You have Sameen, and her endurance, fidelity and intelligence.”

Sameen found the compliments annoying as hell, but Root noted she had said that to her before.

“Goodbye, Sameen,” Azar said and hesitated only a second, her heart hoping her daughter would allow her to hug her, but she knew better.

More surprising that Azar’s exit was Ayala reaching her hand out to Sameen. “No hard feelings, I hope.”

Shaw wanted to list all the reasons she had hard feelings for both of them, but noticed the woman’s head, jerking, encouraging her to take her hand. Sameen shook it.

“Well, those two really know how to make an entrance,” Root said, shaking her head at how easily Azar thwarted her security systems. She turned to see Sameen reading the note that Ayala had slipped her. “What is it?”

Sameen picked her head up. “She’s sick. Azar is sick. She’s going abroad for some kind of treatments.”


	27. About Fighting the Feeling

Root approached Shaw with a tender, empathic response, but that was the last thing Sameen wanted. “No, I’m okay,” she said when Root came close. “She’s … I’m sure she’ll get whatever she needs. That woman seems to … you know … _always_ get what she wants.” Shaw’s voice was unsteady and she was animated when she spoke. “So, thanks … for doing your part in the Cain and Abel portion of Azar’s show.” She was referring to Azar asking Ayala to pull her gun on Shaw.

Root listened and watched and what she heard and saw was how worried Sameen was and how hard she was fighting those feelings.

“I’m sure she knows ..,” and Root was going to say - _the best doctors_ , but Sameen was interrupting her.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure she does,” Shaw said, pushing her hands through her tangled hair now. “I better …,” she said, and meant get this mane under control. She turned and went back to get her things so she could blowout her hair.

Root waited for Sameen, knowing that her feelings for her estranged mother were a tornado at best. Sameen didn’t want to care, but it was her mother after all, and Root could see the battle going on inside.

* * *

A few minutes later, her hair dried and pulled back in a ponytail, Sameen emerged from the bathroom with Root – with a very good question. “Why isn’t the machine helping her?”

Root hadn’t thought of that since her mind was totally on Sameen. They returned to Root’s office to see if they could answer that question.

“Let’s see,” Root said, excited to be able to test the program in real time. Root explained that it had a facial recognition program built in so that it could assess who was trying to change any of its code. Surely, it knew Azar. So, Root sat down at her laptop with Shaw by her side and submitted the question.

Shaw was surprised that the lines of words came back immediately. The program answered that Azar had altered the code to delete her name from any possible scenarios. “I am no longer attached to her,” the screen read. When Shaw yelled at it to reattach, Root watched the response appear:

“ _She has changed my core configuration.”_

Sameen figured if anyone could change it back, it was her genius girlfriend. “Well, just ….,” she said to Root, twirling her index finger which was supposed to mean – do that thing you do.

But Root didn’t look like she could. “Without knowing _where_ the machine’s core is, I can’t change it to recognize Azar. She took herself out of the equation, so to speak, once the machine attached to us.”

“So, what? It has a two-person limit?” Shaw yelled. “The woman who I can’t seem to get rid of now is going to disappear? Fine! Then this machine or whatever it is … is of no use to me and I’m going to blow it up.”

“Why do you think Ayala told you?” Root wondered out loud, not getting upset that Shaw was threatening to destroy her new hobby.

“Because she wanted to torture me one last time before taking off with my … _her_ … mother?” Shaw retorted.

“She did that behind Azar’s back,” Root thought through.

“Literally,” Shaw added because it did seem like she didn’t want Azar to know. “But who knows. That woman could have been in on it. Let’s screw with them one last time kind of thing!”

Then, without thinking, Root said; “You’re taking this personally.”

Shaw’s head snapped in Root’s direction. “I’m … taking this … personally?” she yelled because … well, she was.

“Azar is leaving and doesn’t do so until she’s sure the machine will protect you. She unhitches her ID from the machine just when she could use its help the most. And yet, Ayala informs you that Azar is ill,” Root listed the details.

Root was always matching Shaw’s skill of getting frustrated with her skill of logic. If anything made things worse for Shaw, it was that. “Look, Root,” Shaw said sucking in air to sound as if she was calm, “I don’t care anymore. That woman waltzed out and then back into my life and screwed me over both times. I don’t care anymore.” Sameen hated how unconvincing she sounded, in spite of her best efforts. Even Root’s tilted head and big eyes cast doubt on her statements. That expression all but said –“Oh _come on, Sameen, we both know that isn’t true_.”  “I just want to forget about all of this,” Shaw finally declared and then in her best effort to imitate her girlfriend’s softer side, she looked at Root wide eyed and asked; “Please?”

Root had to admit, if was effective. “Cute,” she smiled and then said, okay and closed her laptop.

“I’m still going to blow you up,” Sameen yelled, lifting the laptop screen up for a second as if it were the receiver on the phone.

Root pursed her lips, the way someone does when they know what their girlfriend is proposing, probably won’t happen. Or … would it?

Sameen thanked Root again for coming to her rescue. The fact that it was staged didn’t take away from the fact that she risked her own safety.

* * *

The discussion with Root may have been put on hold, but Sameen’s own brain was not that patient. It kept insisting that they figure out the answer to Root’s questions.

The distraction Shaw needed came in the form of her antagonistic roommate, Bear. He was feeling as close to guilt as any sentient dog could and brought Shaw a gift. When she returned to her cubicle, he followed her in.

“You are one screwed-up dog,” she said to him, arms crossed while he sat there, holding the object in his mouth. “It’s one thing to think you’re not a dog,” she continued her string of insults, “…but it’s another to …what is in your mouth?”

He figured he deserved whatever verbal attack Shaw threw his way, so he sat there waiting for her to finish. But now that her curiosity was piqued, he made his move. He dropped his beloved movie – the thing he loved to watch the most – into her lap. She ungraciously held it up with two fingers.

“Balto?” she read the title. “What the hell is this?” Sameen asked, holding it gingerly because it was covered in slime. “You want to watch a movie with me?” Her tone was a mix of derision and sarcasm. He shook his head because he found sometimes the two legged creatures were slow to comprehend higher language.

“He’s giving you his favorite movie?” Janine all but ..no, she did, squealed. “Is that the cutest thing EVER?”

Now, there was a woman who comprehended things!

“He’s giving me his movie?” Shaw asked the dog whisperer.

Janine came around the cubicle wall and knelt down in front of Bear. An act, by the way, he was certain would catch on due to its appropriateness. “Yes. Isn’t he the best?” the assistant said, petting the dog affectionately. “Who’s a good dog? You’re a good dog!”

“Okay, okay, that stuff just goes straight to his head,” Sameen complained.

“What do you say?” Janine prompted Shaw and the woman stared hard back in response.

‘ _I am not saying thank you to a dog_ ,’ is what the voice was shouting in Sameen’s head, but her lips uttered – “Thank you.”

“There! Everything is forgiven,” Janine announced because she liked it when everyone got along.

Inside Shaw was a flurry of mixed feelings. Was she jealous that Bear was getting the attention from a woman who usually only fawned over her? Or was she envious that Bear seemed to be giving his affections to the woman who usually fawned over her? The fact that this was even a discussion going on in her head annoyed the hell out of Shaw.

“I used to have a perfectly good Axis II Personality Disorder before all of you screwed me over,” Shaw yelled.

Janine looked up, certain it was her overly affectionate banter with the dog that had her boss upset. She pursed her lips and looked at the dog sideways hoping he understood that Shaw was jealous. When she thought he did, she gave him a big wink and thanked him. She stood back up and turned herself and her attention back to Sameen. “What can I do to help?” she asked earnestly.

“Please just …,” Sameen said instantaneously, even though she wasn’t sure what the rest of that was.

Janine felt it was her utmost duty to complete her boss’ thoughts. “Take him with me and get you something to eat?” It was a good guess.

“Yes,” Shaw answered because she just wanted peace.

The administrative assistant did just that and Bear was happy to go with her. Sameen threw the DVD on her desk and wiped the dog saliva on her pants in disgust.

“I hate feelings,” came the music to Shaw’s ears. She looked up to see Martine standing over the wall between their cubicles. It was like someone saying how much they hated AA meetings when you’re on the road to recovery.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, testing the waters.

“They mess up your head,” Martine said, spoken like a card carrying member of the Axis II club.

“I used to never feel them,” Shaw said, not completely convinced that was the better way. She just wanted a small dose of that so that they didn’t keep rushing at her.

"Those were the days,” Martine empathized. “The military helps you do that, but once you’re back out? It’s feeling this and feeling that. I like to save that experience for weddings and funerals. Okay, not really. More like Superbowls and winning. Yeah,” the woman thought through.

“Yes!” Shaw concurred. “They’re important, right?” she suggested because she wouldn’t want to shut off her feelings for Root. “But they should come with a switch, so you don’t overload.” She was suggesting the very thing Iris explained in one of their first sessions about feelings not having a switch. “The Doc says they don’t work like that,” Sameen shared.

“Not for people like her, she means,” Martine responded like an all knowing goddess. She was all but whispering to Shaw – “Come back to the Dark Side.” She didn’t mean it like that, but she knew a good woman like Shaw wasn’t at her best when feelings were clouding her head. They were sisters in this.

Martine was suggesting something Shaw could get her head around. Iris was a touchy feely person. What did she know about feelings overwhelming her? She probably ate them for breakfast, Shaw decided. “What do you do?” she asked the taller woman the way you do when you’re asking someone to share their secret.

Martine looked around making sure no one would hear her as if the answer must be given only to those worthy of hearing it. “I box,” she said and gave another sweeping glance to make sure they were alone.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, having done some of this in her gym workout. “You mean … with a bag?”

Martine shot her a look of disappointment. “No, Shaw,” she said chastising her friend. “What fun is that? No, you box a person.”

Sameen actually felt embarrassed that she hadn’t gotten that right. “Oh, yeah, of course,” she said, biting her lip. She really was getting soft if she thought a woman like Martine would box a bag and call it fun.

“We could do it,” Martine said, her expression similar to someone suggesting an illegal activity.

Shaw’s first impulse was to say _no_ because … and this was the first thought that came into her head … Root wouldn’t like it. That surprised Sameen; that she was caring what someone else would think of what she was doing. That wasn’t right. She must be getting this feeling thing wrong. What the hell did Iris do to her?

As if reading Shaw’s hesitation and being able to guess what it was, Martine leaned in closer. “It’s not like you make them all go away, Shaw. It’s just putting them back in the little boxes.”

YES! That was exactly what Sameen wanted; put the feelings that rushed at her back in boxes, on the shelf, in a closet with a key, in a room with a lock, at another address, so that they couldn’t fly at her. That way, she would allow the feelings she had for Root to come with her, but the rest would stay put.

This was pure genius.

“Let’s do it!” Sameen said, standing up and nodding her head the more she thought this was a good idea.

“Okay,” Martine said cautiously. “But you have to tell people it was your idea because I don’t want them to hate me when I beat you.”

Shaw smiled. Martine was the perfect _frenemy_ – helping her out, but then torturing her in the process. This is what good friends did in Shaw’s world. This explained a lot about how she treated Fusco.

“There is no way in hell you can beat me,” Shaw countered, the bout already beginning. “I am in better shape, I’m faster, I am definitely meaner. When the bout’s over, I’ll remind you of all of that.”

“You’ll be saying it looking up at me,” Martine poked back.

Shaw laughed and sat back down. This was the perfect solution to her problem. She didn’t even have to sell Root on the idea because they would keep it quiet.

* * *

Shaw forgot one thing – BEAR didn’t do anything quietly. When word got out that the Shaw had challenged Martine to a bout, the company erupted in excitement. Janine ordered t-shirts that read Team Rousseau or Team Shaw. Harold received an email asking if he would endorse a company-wide event for charity. Of course, he did.

“Oh, dear,” he said after the affirmation was given.

“What is it, Harry?” Root asked, as they worked on the program that day.

“I think I just endorsed a rather barbaric event,” he worried.

“The Big Lug going to actually speak?” she teased of his bodyguard.

“Miss Shaw and Miss Rousseau are going to demonstrate their pugilistic abilities today,” Harold informed Root, reading the announcement.

“You mean as in … who punches the bag better?” Root asked, wondering what this could be about.

“No, I’m afraid,” Harold said, peering at his screen. “With each other.”


	28. Brain Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all

Harold became very anxious at the idea that he had just endorsed a boxing match on company property. “Oh, no, this is not good,” he said, rising from his chair and pacing about.

Root gave him a very weird look. She was trying to decide what her response would be. If anyone understood why Shaw would resort to sparring with Martine, it was Root. “She’s attempting to deflect all the feelings,” she announced astutely to a man who had no idea what she was talking about.

“There will be a lot of hurt feelings is my guess,” Harold panicked. Harold Finch was a man who reserved sanctioning any acts of violence only when they were absolutely necessary. Harold never believed they were necessary.

“Don’t worry, Harry; they know what they’re doing,” Root said, but even Harold could detect an uncertainty in her tone.

“Are you sure, Ms. Groves?” he asked, using her formal name and that’s how she knew he was losing it.

“I’ll handle it, Harry. It’ll be fine,” Root assured him. In those few seconds, she had decided that she knew why Sameen was doing this and that it would serve a purpose. Maybe not a great one, but it would accomplish something. Then, the two walked outside where t-shirts were already being distributed. “Looks like you’re _Team Rousseau,_ Harry,” Root said authoritatively as she grabbed her Shaw t-shirt.

* * *

 

Sameen and Martine were both unaware of the fuss being made over what they believed was going to be a private happening. In spite of having the best of intentions of helping her boss, Janine started to worry not everyone would agree this was a good idea. She ran to Iris Campbell’s office first. And much like her boss, she barged in and sat down.

“Doctor Campbell, I hope you’ll excuse this intrusion,” Janine began, “…but time is of the essence.” Iris stared with a blank expression. “It has to do with Sameen,” the assistant explained and that broke the cool reception.

“Is she okay?” Iris couldn’t help but ask because she found she worried about the woman.

“Oh yes, I imagine Ms. Rousseau will not actually hurt her,” the woman began. “But I kind of escalated things because I got so excited.”

Iris smiled and frowned at the same time, indicating just how happy she was to talk about Sameen, but how confused she was by the context. “Ms. Rousseau?”

“In the boxing match,” Janine added and Iris was on her feet again.

“What do you mean?” she demanded.

Janine went on to explain the details and gave more than was required. “You see, I’m Catholic…,” she said, confusing Iris. “And I feel as if I need to confess that I may have encouraged this whole thing. Mostly because Ms. Shaw wanted to do it, I could just tell. But maybe the t-shirts were ….”

“I’m not a priest, Janine. And what do t-shirts …?” Iris asked.

Janine held one up. “I assumed you want a Shaw one,” she said sheepishly. “Anyway, the reason I’m here is to make sure that Shaw, I mean Sameen, can’t undo the work you’ve done in here. You know, about getting all her feelings out and all. She says she hates it, but I really think underneath, she’s glad she’s doing it.”

There was so much about Janine’s visit that unnerved Iris that it was difficult for her to know where to begin. Even acknowledging that Sameen was one of her patients was an ethical violation. “Thank you for sharing your concern,” she said and gave Janine every indication that their impromptu visit was over. Her smile was sincere; her eyes told another story.

Janine got it immediately and headed for the door. “I worry about her,” she confessed before leaving. Iris nodded her head. ‘ _Don’t we all,_ ’ is what the good therapist was thinking, but didn’t say.

Iris turned back and saw the t-shirt on the couch where the enthusiastic assistant had left it. Of course, Iris could not choose sides in this event, even if it were for charity. Still, she picked the shirt up and looked at the name emblazoned across the front. “Oh, Sameen,” Iris whispered, holding the shirt to her chest. “What are you doing?”

* * *

 

At that very moment, what Sameen was doing was listening to Martine drone on about the rules. Not that she was such a rule follower herself, but she knew if anyone found out about this, she’d want all her i’s dotted and her t’s crossed.

“Three things, Shaw. Rule one: You cannot hit below the belt, hold, trip, kick, head-butt, wrestle, bite, spit on, or push your opponent. Two; You cannot hit with your head, shoulder, forearm, or elbow,” Martine repeated to her opponent as they walked to the area in the gym where a match could take place.

“Really?” Shaw commented, insulted that her opponent thought she’d need these instructions.

“Look Shaw, when they’re carrying you out and they ask me if I provided you with all the necessary information, I want to be able to say yes. I want a clear conscience about your demise,” Martine teased as only a friend could.

“So _not_ going to happen,” Shaw retorted.

“And three; You cannot throw a punch while holding onto the ropes to gain leverage,” Martine continued her annoying summary. “Oh, and Shaw? You will be holding onto those ropes.”

“At least I’ll be standing. You, on the other hand…,” Shaw jabbed back. “You know I was a marine, right?”

“Oh, so you want smelling salts, too?” Martine poked her friend.

“That’s it, you’re going down,” Shaw said as they opened the door to the jam-packed room.

The crowd may have surprised Martine, but it was Root’s voice saying – “I thought that was my job,” that shocked Shaw.

“What the hell?” Martine yelled and looked back at Sameen who had more opportunities to have this secret rendezvous leak out.

“Don’t look …how did you even …..?” Sameen stammered.

“Well…,” Root started calmly, “….the t-shirts were a dead giveaway.” She decided there was little she could do about this except support the woman she loved.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Shaw yelled, looking around to see if she could find her assistant in the crowd.

“Don’t be mad at Janine. She can’t help it if she’s got a crush on you and will do anything she thinks you want,” Root said.

“This was just supposed to be two grown women … you know … dealing with …things….,” Sameen tried to explain as it fell apart, word by word. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Root said, taking her favorite pugilist by the arm, “…as long as she does not lay a hand on you, I see no problem with it.”

“Not lay a hand on me? That’s the whole point of boxing, Root,” Sameen said seriously.

The genius CEO saw the dilemma immediately. Shaw had a point. “Okay, but no rough stuff, then.”

Sameen just looked at Root quizzically. “Sure, Root, no rough stuff in the boxing ring. I mean, what were you thinking?” Sameen shook her head and walked towards Martine who had tried to convince the crowd that there was nothing to see there… but was unsuccessful.

* * *

 

“Are they leaving?” Shaw asked sincerely … as if there were a chance.

“Are you kidding? I feel like Darth Vader fighting Luke Skywalker here,” Martine worried.

“You want to be … my father?” Shaw teased, hoping to throw her challenger off.

“Oh, look!” Martine noted. “Your therapist is here, too.” It seemed to the woman that the longer this took, the more people crowded into the area.

By the time John caught wind of this event, he had to squeeze past the crowd in the doorway. “Do any of you people have work?” he asked out loud, but each protested saying they were supporting their favorite charity event. “Right,” he answered back. Then he made his way over to his two staff members. “Shaw? Rousseau?” he said as if he had just run into them in the hallway.

“Oh, shit,” Martine said, forgetting that John would probably not like this at all.

“Reese,” Shaw said suavely. “Want a t-shirt?” she asked.

Reese looked around to see the evenly distributed demographics of supporters. “No,” he said because he never wore a graphic tee in his life. “I see you two have a lot of time on your hands,” he noted.

“Reese, look, we didn’t expect it to get such notoriety,” Martine explained.

He turned his head and looked directly at her and said; “With Shaw involved? Are you kidding me?”

“Look, Reese, we can’t help it if BEAR is such a boring company that it sends its staff members craving for the first exciting thing that happens,” Shaw answered.

“So, now we’re boring?” Reese reiterated because underneath that polished exterior was …well, there was a polished interior, too …but, he was a company man.

“No, you’ve always been boring. Not just now,” Shaw said back because there was never a time that sarcasm seemed inappropriate to her. Even Martine had to fist bump her on that one.

Of course, John’s expression never changed. “I can see that this is all my fault,” he said sincerely.

“Sure,” Shaw said, disinterested. Martine had seen that look in her boss’ eyes though and knew he was up to no good.

“John, this was just supposed to be a couple of gals boxing their stress away,” she attempted to explain.

“Gals? Who says that?” Shaw asked out loud.

“You okay with this?” John turned and asked Root. It really didn’t matter if she was or not; he wasn’t … and that’s what mattered. “She could get hurt,” he unnecessarily pointed out to his boss. He knew the only person Shaw might listen to was Root so he appealed to her.

“He means you, Shaw,” Martine whispered, egging her rival.

“Did you just ask her if …did you just say I would be the one to get hurt? Did you …. Are you saying ….,” Shaw stammered, her anger stoked perfectly.

“They’re going to wear protective head gear,” Root pointed out. Martine immediately made sure they had it there.

Shaw’s expression was full of disdain, but Root had spoken. “Put this on, Shaw. It’ll help you when you fall,” Martine joked as she handed her the foam filled head piece used for sparring.

“I swear to God, I must have stepped on puppies in another lifetime to get this kind of karma,” Shaw complained.

* * *

 

The loud bark announced that Shaw’s four legged supporter was there. “It’s okay, Bear. Sameen knows what she’s doing,” Root assured him and in doing so, was asking Shaw.

“This got …way out of hand,” Shaw said to her concerned girlfriend. “Martine was just suggesting what she does when … you know ….,” Sameen said, and her hands motioning a rushing sensation.

“When the feelings come at you?” Root interpreted quickly.

Of the many things Sameen found endearing about Root, her ability to fill in the blanks of her episodic sentences was right up there. “Yes! All … too much,” Shaw said, slightly embarrassed that mere mortals seemed to be able to handle feelings, but she could not.

“Well, you’ve been dealing with a lot with Azar,” Root surmised correctly. “That’s a lot of emotion.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said, Root’s words more soothing than anything else she had tried.

“I just can’t figure that woman out!” Shaw complained while the crowd grew restless. Root handed her the head gear and took the tape to wrap up Shaw’s hands. She automatically stuck one out as she continued wondering out loud about her mother. “She’s got this stupid machine at her disposal and yet she cuts herself off, just when she needs it the most.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Root assured her. Then, she continued to envelop Sameen’s wrists and hands in the tape and never once did Sameen question how she knew to do it. She pushed the boxing gloves on and pressed the Velcro fastener down. “Now remember, Martine is strong and very physical.”

Sameen just looked at her for overstating the obvious.

“I just couldn’t bear the thought if anyone hurt you,” Root explained and then quickly added; “…besides me.”

“O…kay,” Shaw said, not sure why kind of response that declaration called for.

“Left handed people have an advantage,” Root noted.

Shaw looked over at her opponent. “She’s right handed.”

“Exactly,” Root said, confusing Sameen who shook her head. “Wait!” Root said when she started to walk away. She knew the last thing Sameen wanted was a good luck kiss …. But she was getting it anyway.

The crowd – regardless of which Team they were supporting, expressed a collective noise, much to Shaw’s chagrin.

“We need … to …you know …. Talk about that,” Sameen said, trying to sound annoyed, but licking the sweet sensation that filled her lips.

* * *

 

“Sure you don’t need another good luck kiss, Shaw?” Martine teased, pulling Shaw back into the right mood for the event.

“You can kiss my…,” Shaw started, but someone stepped into the ring and announced they would call the bouts. “Oh, for …,” she protested, but Martine reminded her it was all for a good cause. Even though they had no idea which one, of course.

They touched gloves and the bell rang. “Remember what I told you, Shaw,” Martine said, bouncing around on the balls of her feet. Martine was reminding her opponent about the three rules of engagement that she had shared before.

But the expression caught Shaw’s attention for a whole other reason.

“ _Three things_ …,” Shaw said and cast her eyes to the mat. “ _Three things_ …,” she repeated. She could feel the answer on the tip of her tongue, but her head couldn’t quite get it. “ _What three things_ …,” she said over and over, but Martine was ready to start.

The women traded jabs and Martine proved to be a worthy opponent. Not so much because of her pugilistic skills, but rather for the way she was verbally distracting Shaw with her remarks. Both of them landed jabs, scoring points. Martine was good, but Shaw was better. Perhaps because she was better motivated and was really enjoying the physicality of hitting.

Until, her brain – perhaps out of fear of being jostled in her skull – gave her the answer.

 _Three things_ … what was it? Like tiny pieces of information, they started to come to Shaw. It was something her father said to her when they went for walks in Central Park. “ _Remember these three things, Sameen_ ,” he said to her. Like the sun appearing as clouds moved out of the way, the words came to her. “ _You must strive for these same three things, Sameen,_ ” she heard her father say.  He was holding her hand and they were looking at something.  These three things ...

“ _Endurance, fidelity and intelligence_.”

It was exactly the same three words Azar used when listing the attributes she knew Root appreciated about Sameen.

Shaw’s hands were moving and hitting the target, but her brain was in hyper drive. The final piece came in the excited bark from Bear when he was certain she was going to win. The pieces fell into place. She stopped moving and shouted to Root – “ I know where the machine’s core is.”

Unfortunately, Martine had no way of appreciating that it was at that exact moment that Shaw solved the puzzle.

She swung and hit Shaw, knocking her down …. And out.


	29. Can’t Keep a Good Woman Down

Janine would have beaten Root to Sameen’s side, but she had already fainted. There was a stunned silence that fell over the room because truly, no one really expected Martine to win. Even Martine didn’t expect to because she could tell from the first few punches just how strong her opponent was. Had Sameen not turned her head and her attention, she probably would have won in in the next round. Now, she lay sprawled out on the mat; Root speaking over her and Martine on the other side repeating a call to her deity. The ref tried to grab Martine’s arm to show she was the winner and she shoved him back against the ropes.

“Sameen? Sweetie? Are you okay?” Root said gently, looking down into her lover’s peaceful face. She was holding the unconscious woman’s hand and stroking her cheek.

Sameen was off in la la land, courtesy of the direct blow to the side of her head and the smack to the back of it when she fell. In the place where she was, she had just won the fight. She couldn’t remember how she did it, but there were bells going off and people were picking her up to parade her around. In reality, she was being carted off in the ambulance.

* * *

“Do that gently, please,” Root said to the EMT when he tightened the straps across her beloved prizefighter.

“Sure,” he said, doing just that.

“There’s a very good chance it will take her a minute to remember what happened and therefore, won’t know where she is,” Root said, thinking she should forewarn him.

“You mean she won’t know what hit her?”

“Oh, she’ll know,” Root said, worried that Sameen wouldn’t stay still long enough for them to check her out. She was concerned as soon as Shaw felt the neck brace that she would go ballistic.

“Root?” Sameen said, coming to slightly. “Tell them …,” she was instructing Root to ask people to get off her. Being hauled above the crowd was one thing; everyone touching her was another. “Get off,” she said and tried to pull out the IV.

“We got a possible _PITA_ ,” the EMT said into his device on his shoulder to the ER doctors.

Without warning and with intense swiftness, Sameen pushed against the straps and her hand reached out to grab him by the shirt. “Did you just call me a pain in the ass?” she demanded to know.

Root was surprised, but also amazed that a verbal insult would seep right through and jolt Sameen from her comatose state.

“Help,” he said because he couldn’t move. He was, of course, appealing to Root who was distracted by how hot Sameen was when she was demonstrating her sheer strength. “Help,” he repeated as his throat neared the bar on the stretcher.

“Oh,” Root said and put her hand on Sameen’s arm and then began to run her fingers up the length of it. There wasn’t a physical attribute of the angry Persian that didn’t turn Root on. “Let him go, Sweetie,” she said calmly and Shaw did because she became cognizant of the restraints and the neck brace.

“If you don’t get me out of this …someone better get me out of this now!” she yelled and the only one who didn’t panic was Root.

“Lady, you’re going to the Emergency Room,” the man who had been inches away from the gurney informed Shaw.

That completely surprised her. “ROOT!” she bellowed and Root answered her tenderly.

“Sameen, you hit your head,” Root tried to explain.

“How the hell do you hit your own head in boxing?” Shaw demanded to know. Root didn’t seem to have a firm grasp on the concept of the sport; so perhaps she misunderstood what happened.

“No, Martine hit you,” Root explained truthfully, “…and then you fell down and hit your head.”

 _She hadn’t won? She hadn’t beaten the inferior boxer? She hadn’t be hailed and carried around the room for a victory lap?_ “There were … lights …and horns …”” Sameen tried to reason.

Root shrugged her shoulders and cast her eyes around the surroundings to give her girlfriend time to figure out it was the ambulance’s arrival.

“She … she … Martine …. Beat me?” she gasped, unable to grasp that concept.

“Not actually,” Root said, soothing Shaw’s ruffled feathers. “You turned to tell me something and Martine didn’t realize it and hit you.”

“She clocked you, lady,” the EMT said now that he was free. His remark caused a new round of struggling against the restraints and yelling from the injured party. “I WILL KILL HIM,” Sameen shared her inner most thought.

Threatening the medical personnel gets you a very special dose of Demerol delivered through the intravenous port in your arm. The man struggled to inject it in order to return the patient to her former unconscious state. By the time the ambulance arrived at the ER, the EMT pushed open the doors to escape, as if a wild animal had gotten loose inside. He jumped out and ran into the waiting medics.

“She may be hot,” he explained of the incoming patient, “…but that is one broad, I never want to see again. I mean ever!”

“Status?” the doctor asked.

“Dangerous and crazy,” the EMT replied. “Bad combo.”

“What happened?” one of them asked as the other entered the ambulance.

“She woke up, is what happened. Look at this bruise on my neck,” he showed as proof where he hit the side of the gurney when Shaw pulled him closer. “I gave her Demerol,” he shouted to the other attending. “I so don’t get paid enough for this crap,” he complained.

The patient was sound asleep inside as they pulled the stretcher out. The EMT announced he was going to widen the distance between him and Sameen and informed the doctors, they were taking their own chances.

All the time, Root held onto to Sameen’s hand, wishing the additional dose had been avoided. “She’s really no threat,” she informed the ER staff, confident her girlfriend would behave better. The red marks on Sameen’s arms where she pushed against the restraints proved otherwise.

“Let’s just take a look at her,” the doctor said and ordered some tests, which they only managed to do because Sameen was still knocked out.

* * *

An hour later, she woke up in a bed inside the ER with Root by her side. The pain medication had worn off and she was left with a headache that prevented her from sitting up too quickly. “What the hell happened to me?” she asked Root.

“You’ve had a _nasty_ fall,” the nurse shared, thinking she was being helpful, but Root smiled at her not to say another word.

“Do you remember anything?” Root asked Sameen as she slowly sat up in the bed.

“I remember the gym and Martine and Reese,” Shaw listed her memories.

“Do you remember what happened?” Root asked aware that Sameen still seemed foggy on the details.

“I was … boxing …,” Sameen relayed and then went blank. She looked at Root to help her and Root could see the nervous look in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Sameen,” Root said and then looked at the nurse.

“That happens,” the nurse assured her. “Sometimes with a _nasty_ hit like that, the brain gets pushed around and memories get distorted for a bit.”

There was nothing about that update that Shaw liked. Her eyes narrowed on the medical messenger and her hand went to fly outward to grab the woman, but Root anticipated it and took her hand gently before she even moved. “Could we have a minute here?” she asked the nurse and what she really wanted to say was … “ _Lady, help me to save your life.”_

In the quiet of the room now, Sameen concentrated on getting back her short term memory. “I was in the ring with Martine,” she began as Root listened attentively. “She kept saying something. Something about three things.”

“Do you remember what they were?” Root prompted her.

“No…,” Shaw said, and the distress in her voice heightened.

“It’s okay, Sweetie,” Root assured her and brushed the stray strands of hair off of Sameen’s face.

“What was I saying to you?” Sameen asked. “You said, I was turning to you to tell you something. What did I say?”

“We can talk when we get home,” Root assured Shaw, but in doing so, made Sameen worry that she couldn’t remember on her own.

“Tell me, Root. What was I saying to you?” Shaw pleaded.

Root hesitated only a minute before answering her. “You said you knew where the machine’s core was located.”

Sameen stared at Root, a blank expression on her face. “What machine?” she asked, confused.

The next half hour was spent with Shaw asking all kinds of questions about why she would ask about a machine, and why was she boxing to begin with? The only thing that did seem clear in her mind was that she wanted to hurt the EMT who called her a pain in the ass.

 _That_ memory was still intact.

The doctor walked in with the results and announced that everything looked okay and that Sameen was free to go whenever she wanted to. She had her feet on the floor before the period was at the end of that sentence.

“How come I can’t remember things?” Sameen demanded to know as she got dressed behind the curtain.

“You had a ….,” the doctor started to explain and Root shook her head not to say ‘nasty fall’ again. “...fall that might have caused some short term memory failure,” the doctor said and Root knew there really was no way to say it that Sameen would like.

“ _Might_?” came the question when Sameen whipped the curtain back. “When will it return?”

“Well,” the doctor started to say and laughed the way they do when they are afraid to admit they don’t have a definite answer. “It … could return soon.”

Shaw looked over at Root, completely discontented with that answer. “I want to take her home now,” Root said to the doctor and he would get the orders ready.

“Order _this_ ,” Shaw spat as she started to walk out. “Come on, Root. We need to figure this out.”

* * *

Root was so happy that Sameen felt confident that, together, they could solve this, that she took her hand happily and left. They went to the Penthouse where Isabelle made a big fuss over Shaw. She meant well, but it made Sameen’s head hurt even more.

“I’m going to put her to bed,” Root said to the well intentioned cook.

“She’s …. _not_ hungry?” the chef asked, very concerned. Root shook her head no. “Oh, this is bad,” the woman said as Root followed closely behind Shaw. The woman turned to Bear who sensed that he should be on his best behavior. “This is very bad, Bear.”

It had been Bear’s experience that in times of great crises, the two legged animals didn’t perform well. He found them to be easily distracted and confused. This would explain why he decided to take matters into his own … well, paws.

* * *

Upstairs, Root was helping Shaw lie down in the large bed and slowly took her place next to her. Cradling Sameen in her arms now, she slowly massaged her neck and back until Shaw couldn’t fight off the sleep and surrendered. For the next hour, Root held onto her while she updated everyone about Shaw’s progress. “She’s going to be fine,” she texted a heart sickened Martine. Janine had already come to and threatened the much taller, much stronger woman. Flowers arrived by the droves from coworkers who just wanted to wish their heroine well. Even Reese stopped by with a bottle of expensive whiskey. “You take care of her, okay?” he asked Isabelle sincerely.

Bear had never seen the big guy so down before. He looked at the woman who usually could make Shaw smile with her food and even she seemed at a loss. It was time to take charge. He grabbed what he needed in his mouth and made his way upstairs.

“Don’t wake them,” Isabelle warned, but he looked back at her asking – _Do you have a better idea_? Her silence, he took it, meant she didn’t.

* * *

Root heard him come into the room and knew he was there because he was worried about Sameen. “She’s okay, Bear,” she whispered as the woman lay next to her asleep.

‘ _She does not look okay,_ ’ he tried to convey with his eyes. Humans were so poor at reading him most times. He dropped the object in his mouth and went to see for himself. Before Root could stop him, he licked the side of Sameen’s face, covering her cheek in saliva.

“Bear!” Root whispered.

“Root!” Shaw said, thinking her girlfriend had come up with a new way to wake her.

“Are you telling me you can’t tell the difference between his kisses and mine?” Root teased as Shaw smiled at her own joke. Root bent down and kissed Shaw’s forehead and promised to do all she could to help her distinguish between the two …but later, when Sameen felt better.

“Hey, Sexy,” Shaw said to the dog, on purpose.

“Oh, so he gets the nice greeting?” Root huffed, feigning insult.

Bear all but shook his head. Then, he walked over, retrieved his item and proceeded to press the DVD player.

“Oh, Bear, not now,” Root gently chastised him.

“Home movies of when he was a puppy?” Shaw teased, sitting up in bed.

“No, Bear’s answer to all ailments unfortunately,” Root said, knowing exactly what the dog was going to do.

“He can put a DVD in there?” Shaw asked and Bear turned to look at her sharply. “Sor-ry,” she said to the insulted dog.

Daan had taught him how to open the DVD case and retrieve the disc which was not locked in place. Then, he took the CD in his mouth and proceeded to push it into the slot. He barked at Root to do her part and when she hesitated, he barked louder.

“Okay, okay, you can watch a few minutes. We better let him or we’ll get no peace,” Root explained to Shaw.

“You don’t think this could be part of his …behavioral problem, do you?” Shaw asked the woman who spoiled the dog rotten.

Again, he turned and looked at Shaw; his stare so intense, she pulled the covers back over her and pretended to hide. “He’s being very sensitive,” she whispered to Root.

“I don’t know _where_ he gets that from,” Root teased, turning her attention away from the movie that was coming on. She hoped it would keep Bear occupied a few minutes while she cuddled with Shaw.

Sameen, too, paid the dog no attention as lips pressed in on hers and distracted her pleasantly.

“Are you feeling better?” Root asked between long, soft kisses.

“I’m feeling something,” Shaw admitted because Root had a way of making her feel good all over.

* * *

Bear sat glued to the television as his favorite movie played. He tried to help Sameen feel better and from the sounds of it, he had accomplished what he set out to do. They were laughing and giggling under those covers. He wished they would keep it down, though because his favorite part of the movie was coming up. He often thought that one day; they would erect a statue in Central Park for him. And when they did, they’d use the same words they used to describe Balto, the fearless dog who led the sled team on its final leg of the 1925 serum run in Nome, Alaska.

“He has the most _endurance_ , the most _fidelity_ , the most _intelligence_... “ the character spoke of the dog on the screen.

Bear knew each of those three words meant something very good. And he was pleased to hear that Sameen noticed them, too.

“Root?” she said when the adjectives registered. “I remember something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed some lines from Leon - lol.


	30. Drive

Root was concerned that Sameen would push herself before she was ready. And they just had shared some tender, albeit exhilarating, moments. “The doctor said it will come back, but not to pressure yourself,” Root reiterated as Sameen sat up straight, the dots finally connecting.

“No, don’t you see?” Sameen said as her thoughts were on the TV screen instead of Bear’s movie. “My mother kept saying what she thought you appreciated in me,” Sameen started to explain.

“Yes, but she only listed three things,” Root said back affectionately. According to her, the list fell short of all the things she valued.

“She was telling us where the machine’s core is, Root,” Sameen spelled out.

Now, she had Root’s attention. “What does Balto have to do with your mother?”

“When I was little girl, my father would take me for walks through Central Park. We would always pass the statue of that dog. And those words are inscribed on the statue. My father would repeat them to me. This is why Azar used them, hoping maybe that those words would mean something to me.”

“Why not just tell us where the core was?” Root wondered out loud.

Sameen turned her head quickly and stared right back. “In the short time you have known her, have you found that the woman does anything the easy way?”

She had a point, Root thought. Still, she tried to stop Sameen from getting up. “Where are you going?”

“We have to get to that core, Root. You have to change it so that that stupid machine recognizes my mother and can help her,” Shaw explained. And in true Shaw fashion, she added; “Then, I’m going to kill her for making us run around like this!”

“We can go tomorrow …,” Root was suggesting, but Shaw was up and moving. Root could tell that she was still sore, but was determined to go.

“Now,” Shaw said and that was the end of the discussion.

* * *

Root held onto the Shaw’s arm as Shaw held onto Bear’s leash; the dog pulling Sameen along. “Have you considered getting him trained… ever?” Shaw yelled because the dog would not slow down.

In Bear’s mind, his actions had saved Sameen and she wanted to go to see how statues created for four legged creatures were made. In other words, Shaw was going to erect one in his honor. There would be details to work out, of course, because he didn’t want his effigy to be exactly the same. In other words, the dog didn’t want to be a copycat.

There it was – and he only slowed down when they came upon the statue in the park. Bear was thrilled at the progress the couple was making, so he sat down giving them time to look around at the structure.

“So, you think she hid it in here?” Root asked, running her hand along the base. It was late at night now, and the kids that usually adorned the statue were long gone. They often climbed to stand next to their revered canine hero. Sameen was lost in the flood of memories that swept her back to a time when her father took her there.

* * *

_“Remember this, Sameen,” he would say to her sweetly. “Life isn’t always fair. You must face every challenge like a Shaw. And like Balto, here, you have what it takes … inside you,” he would continue and then gently touch her head and heart when he said, “Endurance, fidelity, intelligence.” She would smile because it felt like these things were like nuggets inside her; solid pieces of her talents that he referred to. She felt as if she could face anything because her father believed she possessed the stuff heroes were made of._

_“Maybe I’ll be a doctor one day, Daddy,” a young Sameen told her father one day. “And help people like Balto did.”_

_He scooped her up in his arms and smiled. “You are going to do great things, Sameen.”_

* * *

Those memories had been buried for years. Once her father died, and abandoned her just like her mother had, Sameen had little use for memories, sentiments, or feelings. Since she met Root, it seemed, they were slowly being resurrected from her past.  
In the meantime, Root was applying her high IQ to solving the problem at hand – finding if the statue did indeed contain the machine’s core. She looked at Sameen and saw the struggle as her past reared its head and pulled at her. “Sweetie? It’s okay,” Root said and no one ever spoke those words to Sameen and made her believe them like Root did.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, coming back to Root. “Did you find anything?”

Root continued to feel for something in the structure that might indicate an opening. “Maybe this,” she said of a groove in the back of the base. Shaw produced a crowbar, much to Root’s surprise. “You do come equipped,” she smiled of her girlfriend’s preparedness.

“Now look,” Shaw instructed. “When you get to it, make sure it knows that Azar is leaving. Do that algorithm stuff you do to find out if she’s really going for treatment or if she’s just doing something stupid.”

“Even if the core heuristics are here, Sameen, I will need a little time to reprogram it to find Azar and figure out where she is,” Root explained.

Now, that usually wouldn’t take the genius techie very long, but she noticed something that was about to interrupt their daredevil plan.

“So?” Shaw said, hardly understanding the problem.

“That … _officer_ … might have an issue with me defacing the statue,” Root pointed out because their lurking had caught the attention of a cop on patrol. He couldn’t see Root yet, but his eyes were locked on Sameen.

“Oh, crap,” Shaw commented and decided immediately what needed to be done. “Root, I’m going to distract him. You keep doing whatever you can to get at that machine. Bear, stay with Root.” And with those instructions, she was up on her feet and walking towards the cop.

“Hey Lady, what are you doing there?” he asked cautiously.

Now, Sameen could have offered an explanation of how she and her girlfriend were taking their dog for a walk to his favorite statue because he was enamored with the Siberian husky legend, but that sounded all too ridiculous and would take too long. What Sameen really needed was for him to get away from the scene. And the only way she could guarantee that he would … was to run. But first she walked towards him slowly so she could lead him away. “Can’t a …person … just … look …at … a …statue?” she inquired, making the officer very suspicious.

“Are you soliciting?” he asked, thinking she might be a prostitute.

Sameen just stopped and stared at him. She wanted to ask - are you serious?’, but she had to keep him busy. “What’s it to you?” she asked and of course, he explained that it was against the law to solicit sex in Central Park.

He turned to look back at the statue when they both heard the bang of the plate falling away from the base. Sameen had to think fast. She nudged the cop hard on the shoulder to make him turn and look at her.

“Lady, you cannot hit an NYPD officer,” the young cop explained, giving her a chance. “Now, why don’t you just come quietly with me,” he said, approaching Sameen as she walked backwards and away from the statue.

She could hear Root working in the background and needed this guy to get as far away as possible. So, her next move was to challenge him. “Catch me,” she said, moving away more quickly now.

“Lady, you do not want to be arrested for evading the police. Just listen to me,” he tried, but noticed he had to increase his steps to keep up with her.

Sameen turned and took off, making sure he was pursuing her. He was and he was also calling for backup. When she was blocks away and she saw the additional help up ahead, she slowed down and put her hands up. The young cop was none too pleased with her and handcuffed her roughly, reading her rights to her.

“Aren’t … you….?” one of the assisting officers asked as Sameen was placed in the back of the patrol car.

* * *

In the light of the precinct booking room, Sameen was no longer a stranger. “What the hell?” the Desk Sergeant uttered when she was brought in. “Shaw?” he asked, amazed to see the woman there … in cuffs.

“Solicitation and evading the police,” the young cop announced of his prisoner’s crimes.

The older man stared at him, thinking the inexperienced officer must be mistaken. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Found her in Central Park and asked her if she was soliciting and she ran,” he summed up, proud of his very first arrest.

“Shaw?” the sergeant asked.

“He’s a bit overzealous,” she winked.

Now, the man was certain the cop was mistaken, but he needed someone higher up to authorize the release of a woman just arrested. So, he called for the higher authority. “Fusco?” he yelled and Shaw cringed.

“What?” Lionel yelled from behind his mound of paper on his desk. He had told Joss he would finish her paperwork so she could go out with Reese that night.

“Don’t …not him,” Shaw begged, but the sergeant wasn’t listening.

“Look, Fusco, I know you usually only handle murders,” the older cop was explaining when Fusco walked over and saw his friend handcuffed and trying to avoid him, “…but I figure this has got to be some kind of a mistake.”

“What did you get her on?” Fusco asked the arresting officer.

“Solicitation and she ran…away… through the park,” he explained, hoping someone would believe him.

Fusco turned back to the desk sergeant. “If a _certain_ _someone_ finds out about this, there must just be a murder. Now, let her out of those cuffs. I’m sure Ms. Shaw has a very good reason for making you chase her through the park.”

The young cop did as he was instructed and released his prisoner. Shaw smiled at him and the desk sergeant and then thanked her friend. “I gotta go now, Fusco,” she said, but he grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her over to his desk.

“Not without the truth, Shaw,” he instructed and waited until she took the seat.

The usual eye roll and long sighing signaled her displeasure at his request. “I … have … to …go,” she said, as if he didn’t believe her the first time.

“They have to find your stuff first,” he said of her phone and wallet that the cop took into custody.

“I have to get back to Root,” she said emphatically.

“Tell me what’s going on, Shaw, or I’ll call Root to come down here and pick you up,” Fusco said.

“You are such a pain in the ass, do you know that? I’m serious, Fusco. You are … you are …,” she stammered because she was so frustrated.

“I just want the truth,” he noted.

“Fine!” she huffed. “But don’t make me repeat any of this. Pay attention! My mother is leaving. She’s sick and she’s going somewhere,” she began.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Right? I mean, I am, right?” he asked, unsure of which side of the fence Shaw was on about this woman.

“Stop talking,” she commanded. “So, she’s disconnected herself from her glorious machine, the one thing that could probably help her if she’s really sick.”

Fusco looked around to make sure no one could hear them. “Didn’t we find that machine …in the basement of the library?”

“That’s …some of it. But its brains were somewhere else and she wouldn’t tell us, although she kept giving us hints. It wasn’t until today when I got knocked out ..,”

“You were knocked out?” Fusco asked concerned.

“From the boxing match?” Shaw asked annoyed because it never dawned on her that Lionel wasn’t tuned into everything that happened in her life.

“You were in a boxing match?” he asked incredulously.

“Stop asking questions,” Shaw demanded. “Yes, with Martine and it was leaked out and everyone was there and something came to me during the match.”

“I hope it wasn’t Martine’s fist,” he noted and then saw the look on Shaw’s face. “She beat you?”

“No! She didn’t beat me. I got distracted and she hit me and knocked me out,” Shaw said defensively.

“So, she won,” he said, getting off on a very annoying track as far as Sameen was concerned.

“So, I went home with Root and finally that dog did something that wasn’t totally annoying. He put his favorite movie on…,” Shaw explained out of what she believed to be, the goodness of her heart.  
“That’s funny, Shaw. You just said …’ _he put_ ’ …. As in the dog put his own movie on,” Lionel laughed. He looked at the blank expression on his friend’s face. “You’re kidding me?”

“The point, FUSCO, is that the movie is about a dog that is immortalized in a statue in Central Park and that’s where I think my mother hid the brains of her machine,” Shaw said, out of breath.

“Oh, so you two went there to retrieve it?” he asked, getting the gist finally.

“YES!” Shaw said, grateful he finally caught on.

He nodded his head. “I’m going to say you were in a boxing match, got knocked out and you’ve been a little more cuckoo than usual,” he decided.

“Tell them what you want, but I have to get to Root to see if she found it,” Shaw said.

“Okay, I’ll give you a ride back,” he announced, grabbing his coat.

Only then, did Shaw notice the piles of paperwork. “Didn’t I just …help you with all of this?”

“I’m a busy man, Shaw,” he said, never sharing that it was someone else’s paperwork that he had just finished.

Shaw collected her phone and wallet as Fusco explained to the officer that she suffered a blow to the head that day and wasn’t her usual charming self. He turned to take Shaw in the car with him when she punched him in the arm for his snide remark.

“Geez, Shaw!” he said in pain. “Where was that punch this afternoon.”

“I really should just kill you. I should lock you in the trunk of your car and leave you somewhere,” she bellowed as they went down the steps to the car.

“The fact that ten cops just hear that probably means you should come up with another plan,” he pointed out as she called Root.

* * *

Root was glad that Fusco was with Shaw because she was quite worried when she saw what Sameen’s plan for distraction was. “Come to the Penthouse,” Root said and that’s where Fusco brought her. He followed her upstairs, unsure of just what his two friends had concocted.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re okay, Sweetie,” Root said when she greeted Shaw at the elevator. “Hi, Lionel, I’m glad you’re here.”

Both Shaw and Fusco responded with the same words; “You are?” they asked in unison.

“We might need your help,” Root explained. “Come look,” she said and escorted them to the living room where a large box was now connected to her computer.

Root explained that she was able to retrieve the machine’s core hardware and brought it back with her. She reestablished Azar’s identity in the program and asked the machine to find her. Root then opened a voice recognition program, put her earpiece in, and started to communicate with the machine.

“I explained about Azar’s sudden departure under mysterious misgivings and that Ayala had shared that she was ill,” she updated Shaw.

“Sounds like you and he are getting pretty chummy,” Fusco noted.

“It’s a she, Lionel,” Root corrected him and Shaw found that odd.

“So, what can it do?” Shaw asked.

“Well,” Root said proudly, “…it scanned the systems and found that Azar had visited a thoracic specialist right here in Manhattan and had tests done. She has TB,” Root said, looking at the results that the machine had found in her medical file.

“Is that …serious?” Fusco asked because Shaw was silent.

“Yes, but it’s treatable. The cure can take a long time, but it can be effective, “ Root answered and there was an unspoken ‘but’ at the end.

“What?” Shaw asked.

Root hesitated only a moment before saying; “She’s refused treatment, as far as I can tell. She booked a flight to leave tomorrow for England where she’s rented a house for several months.”

“Why would … why would she do that?” Sameen asked and Root could see how perplexing the whole thing was for her.

“Maybe we could ask her?” Root offered.

What Sameen didn’t want was to have to face her mother again. But she also had no patience to let this drag on onto tomorrow. “Fine!” she said. “But I’m getting my gun.”

Fusco watched with Root as Sameen climbed the steps to retrieve her weapon. “Now, there’s a mother and daughter reunion I’m glad I’m missing out on,” he noted.

But Root had other ideas. “I think she might need you there,” she explained.

“Oh, geez,” Fusco said, knowing nothing good was going to come out of this encounter.

* * *

What Root didn’t realize at the moment was that the machine was taking matters into her own hands to help them.

Across town at the Waldorf Hotel, Ayala was checking their flight reservations. “I don’t understand this,” she said to Azar. “The airlines just said that our flights have been cancelled.”


	31. E Equals Mothering Conflict Squared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I finally got around to stealing the machine's lines. lol

Shaw returned, armed and ready to go talk to her mother.

“You know it’s close to midnight, right?” Fusco pointed out, hoping his friend would reschedule her impromptu visit.

“Good,” she smiled. “I love surprises.”

“I think you mean … you like _surprising_ , not being surprised. Because I have seen your reaction when you’re surprised, and it ain’t pretty,” Fusco said, because he was tired and his lips were even looser than usual. Unfortunately for him, Sameen’s fist wasn’t tired and he got another punch to the arm. “OUCH!” he said loudly, holding the injured place of his meaty upper arm. “Did you see that?” he asked Root.

“What?” Root asked, because that temper of her girlfriend’s was actually something she liked in her.

“Okay, could you at least tell me what we’re doing? Wait, do I even want to know?” he asked astutely.

Root looked at Sameen, letting her know it was her call. “I’ll probably have to kill you for sharing this, but you know that program my mother tweaked after stealing it? Well, apparently, in the perfect hands, it can do wondrous things.” The dripping sarcasm with which that was delivered was not lost on Root or Fusco as they rode down in the elevator.

“Yeah? So?” he asked.

Shaw picked up both of Root’s hands to show her friend. “ _These_ ... are perfect hands,” she pointed out.

Now, all it ever took was Sameen’s touch to make Root feel tingling, but add in something she could make into an innuendo, and Root was over the edge. “Why, thank you,” she gushed at Sameen and her technology acuity had nothing to do with her statement.  "I have found them to be effective."

Her meaning was not lost on the other two. “Root!” Sameen said as Fusco laughed. Root did her best innocent expression since she didn’t initiate this conversation. “Let’s …just go,” Sameen said as they got out of the elevator and into Fusco’s car.

* * *

 

“The last time I was here, she tried to poison me, so …,” Fusco reminded his friends as they approached Azar’s suite. “Maybe you don’t need me.” It was less the threat of poison and more the late hour that had him concerned.

“How about this?” said the woman who rarely went an hour without a snack. “Don’t eat!”

“You owe me breakfast,” Lionel said, glad that his son was at a friend’s house that night. “You know, I coulda had a date,” he balked.

“And we could have ridden our unicorns over here, too,” Shaw bantered.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do we have a plan? Not that we need one,” Root said truthfully.

Sameen didn’t care for the interruptions, but Root had a point. “Yeah, I’m going to ask my mother what her plan is and it better include going to the best doctors. Did you get names?” she was asking, when Root held up her phone with the name of the premier doctor in Manhattan. It had appeared as they were making their way there.  “And … _other_ stuff,” Sameen added and Fusco looked at Root, hoping she knew what that ‘other stuff’ might be.

“Use your words,” Root said when they were outside and Sameen was knocking on the door.

“She means, not your weapon, Shaw,” Fusco elaborated because he felt safer with Root in between them.

* * *

In spite of the late hour, Ayala opened the door. “Didn’t feel like breaking in?” she asked and didn’t mean it to sound as snippy as it did. She was still sorting out her feelings for her older half-sibling and couldn’t help the smattering of jealousy.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Shaw said, and now it was Root who looked at Fusco with raised eyebrows. He may not have wanted to get in the middle of Shaw and her mother, but his services might be needed to break up the half-sisters.

“You’d think she had enough fighting for one day,” Fusco whispered to Root who gave him a look. “Just saying.”

“Where is Azar?” Shaw said, taking off her leather jacket and putting in on the back of the chair, the way one does when they’re going to stay for a while, or fight.

No sooner had Sameen said the woman’s name when she appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. It was after midnight, but she was dressed impeccably as usual. “Sameen, Ms. Groves, Detective Fusco,” she greeted them. “I have to say I am surprised to see you.” Her admission made Sameen turn and smile at Root. If Root were keeping score, as Sameen hoped, that point definitely went to her.

“Yeah, well we solved your puzzle,” Sameen said and made sure her mother was paying attention. “We found your machine. Or its brains or whatever.”

Azar’s expression relayed that she was surprised, but pleased. She had thought it would take longer only because Sameen seemed so disinterested in finding it. “Good,” she said, taking a seat and waving her hand to implore her guests to do the same. Root and Fusco sat on the couch next to the chair that Sameen sat in. Ayala sat in a chair at the other end of the sofa, opposite her sibling.

The older woman’s calm demeanor annoyed Sameen, but she was coming to expect it. “Yeah, clever. Were you watching me when my father took me to the statue?” The question was out of Sameen’s mouth before she knew it. She cringed because she didn’t really want it answered.

“Yes,” Azar said, glad to see that Sameen was curious. “I take it, Ms. Groves; you were able to retrieve it?” As usual, the woman was taking charge of the conversation.

“You don’t get to ask questions,” her equally controlling daughter instructed. “You get to listen.”

“Oh,” Azar said, and folded her hands in her lap to indicate she would.  
“Your machine and really, any machine, is putty in Root’s hands. She knows how to fix things, create things, and make them work again. So, getting your precious contraption to find you was child’s play for her,” Sameen outlined and Root blushed a little.

“I see,” Azar said, as if she were surprised at how good Root was. She wasn’t.

“Oh, please stop it, mother,” Shaw implored, unaware of how many times she referred to Azar as her parent. “You knew I would eventually figure out where you hid it, and that Root would be able to reprogram it so that it would find you.”

Then Sameen, though unrehearsed, delivered her coup de grâce.

“It seems children aren’t the only thing you abandon.”

The silence that befell the room was deafening. Even Fusco, who had ‘ _Oh, crap_ ,’ written all over his face, didn’t say a word. Root’s eyes were glued on Sameen, as if scanning to see just how upset she was. Her breathing was only slightly labored.

Azar bowed her head, accepting the verbal blow gracefully. Truly, she felt, she deserved that. But it was her other daughter who came to her defense.

“Do you have a point?” the younger sister verbally shot down the length of the coffee table to Sameen.

Sameen’s head twisted so quickly, Root was afraid she’d hurt it. She spoke up before Shaw could. “I believe the point of our visit is to make sure your mother gets the care she needs.”

Sameen didn’t mind at all that Root just outplayed her family.

Now, it was Azar’s head that turned quickly to look at her younger daughter. “Ayala,” she said, almost sternly because they had talked about this and she had make her wishes known.

“Don’t blame her,” Shaw barked. “You have done nothing but play games with us since you came back. Now, you thought you’d ride off into the sunset in England without getting the treatment you need. And you were taking Ayala along with you? So, what, you could abandon her when you die?”

Sameen was now standing and leaning down at her mother. Ayala wanted to protest that she didn’t need anyone to stand up for her, but she found she couldn’t move. She had never had anyone stand up for her before and she was astounded by the whole display.

“Don’t question my motives,” Azar said forcefully back and Fusco actually reached out and grabbed Root’s arm when she went to leap forward.

“Easy, Cocoa,” he whispered. As a cop, he had been called in on his fair share of family disputes and he knew taking sides, could mean adding fuel to the fire. But this was no ordinary family, and no one messed with Sameen while Root was breathing. Fusco’s hold on her arm was futile as she whipped away easily.

“You listen to me, Azar,” Root bellowed from across the table with a dead, icy stare that made Sameen pull back a little. “I’m not sure what your intentions were from the start, but you better take inventory and fast and make sure none of them involve upsetting Sameen. I’ve let you have your way, but that ends right here and now. Enough games, Azar. You give Sameen everything she wants or so help me, I will make transistor radios out of your machine.”

Fusco decided if he thought Shaw was trouble; Root was ten times worse when she was protecting Sameen. He looked around quickly just to make sure no one had pulled a gun.

“It has never been a game, I promise you that,” Azar said softly now. “If any of this came across like a test, it was only because I had to be sure that you both would take care of the machine. Or destroy it. I knew that decision was out of my hands. This is why I detached from it.”

Root was satisfied that Azar understood her, so she took her seat again. Sameen, whose eyes were still on Root, slowly took hers as well.  “O…kay,” Sameen said, hoping to get back on track. “Why refuse treatment, then?”

Of all the questions they asked, that seemed to give her the most pause. It was Ayala who answered, because she had known it for some time. “She thinks she deserves it.”

“What?” Shaw yelled, upset by the theatrics. “Is that true?”

Bothered that she would be questioned, Ayala mocked; “I could be making it up.”

“And I could be kicking your ass,” Shaw shot back.

Azar took a deep breath. “I have made a great many mistakes in my life. I’ve done some very bad things. So, I decided to live out the rest of my days, the way I felt was appropriate.”

Suddenly, Root heard something in her ear.

 _“Self-deprecating confession stated with sincerity_.”

“Are you kidding me?” Shaw yelled. “I am not listening to this.”

“ _Passive-aggressive response to subdue underlying hostility._ ”

Root pressed her finger on the earpiece for fear that Sameen would be able to hear one word of this.

“Tell them the truth,” Ayala pleaded with her mother.

 _“Gentle exhortation to further action._ ”

“Tell us, or I will go home and personally put a magazine of bullets into your machine,” Shaw warned.

 _“Coolly delivered sadistic warning._ ”

“I …,” Azar hesitated. “Deserve to die.”

 _“Sincere confession given under duress_.”

Sameen sat back in her chair, trying to come up with a response to that blunt statement. “We all do.”

 _“Unsettling retort to deflect feelings_.”

Root worried any minute now, the machine’s psychoanalysis would become known. “Accurate, but not helpful right now,” she murmured out of the side of her mouth.

“I didn’t say a word,” Fusco whispered back.

“I think ….” Root began to speak … almost too loudly, but she was trying to ignore the talking in her ear. “We … can’t make the decision for her.”

Root was right; but that didn’t mean it was what anyone wanted to hear. Sameen frowned at her. “We can all be bad code. Some of us are prone to it, others choose it. Very few are perfect code,” she said, looking lovingly at the woman she believed to be as close to perfect as she had ever known. “You can’t be bad code, Azar,” Root determined.

Azar laughed lightly.

 _“Deflecting positive analysis before asking for further details_.

“How do you know that?”

“Because, “ Root answered sincerely, “Part of you is in her.”

Fusco knew that gooey voice that Root got whenever she was talking openly and affectionately about Sameen, but he wasn’t sure if anyone else was buying it.

 _“Uttering statement with great emotion and conviction,_ ”  the machine continued her analysis.

“And besides,” Root continued, putting her hand inside her jacket and producing a Glock. “If you don’t do what Sameen wants, I’ll end this now.”  

 _“Imminent danger._ ”

“You got that right,” Root said to the voice in her ear.

The declaration, which didn’t seem to fit anyone’s question, made Shaw worry that Root was losing it. “Okay, okay,” she said and her mind raced to figure out what to do. A crazy control-freak mother was child’s play, compared to handling a pissed off Root.

“I’m not kidding,” Root said and pulled back the trigger.

Fusco chastised himself for not thinking that the crazier of the two friends would be the one to pull the gun. Ayala froze and looked at Shaw. Her sister was becoming a known quantity; her girlfriend was still enigmatic.

Oddly enough, the woman who thought she deserved to end her days in pain, didn’t want to go by gunshot. “I’ll do whatever she wants.”

Root didn’t move a muscle. “Tell her what you want,” she said sweetly to Sameen like they were giving their food choices to the waitress.

Sameen was caught between admiring her girlfriend’s – _ain’t taking anymore crap_ – move, and worrying that Root had the longest day and could snap. She didn’t think she’d actually shoot her mother, but she also couldn’t be sure if pushed, she wouldn’t do something.

Sameen turned back to look at her mother. “You’ll stay in New York and get treatments,” Sameen outlined. “And stay until they’re done.”

“Okay,” Azar promised. “I’ll go.”

Root lowered her gun; Fusco let out a sigh of relief and Sameen concluded that they were finished.

Root’s phone beeped and she looked at it. “I’m forwarding Azar’s appointment schedule,” she said as if she weren’t surprised that it just appeared on her phone.

Shaw understood what just happened almost intuitively. "It would seem that your machine is not done with you," she smiled and then it faded as quickly as it appeared.  "Unlike me.”

The words were meant to sting, and they did. Even Root felt that bite, but she knew which side of this she was on. Then the voice reappeared in her ear.

 _“Hostile remark … but sincere._ ”

Sameen grabbed her jacket and was walking out, Root and Fusco behind her.

“Thank you,” Ayala said, bravely putting her hand on Shaw’s arm.

Shaw instinctively looked down at the hand and then up at its owner. Usually, that was accompanied by a look of terrible warning. “Good luck,” Sameen said, thinking it would be the last time she saw her distant relative.

“ _They will meet again, soon_ ,” the voice in Root’s ear declared.

“Oh, goody,” Root said, very unenthusiastically.


	32. Forces at Work

Shaw all but stamped her feet to the elevator as she left her mother. Root understood what was going on; Shaw walked into that hotel room feeling as if she were in control … and left feeling out of sorts. While Root felt for Sameen’s dilemma, she knew it was because her Axis II Personality girlfriend had real feelings for her mother.

“Well, that went well,” Fusco summarized because no one actually got shot. “I’m going to frisk you two next time though,” he blurted out loud because it was Root who pulled the gun. One narrowed stare from Shaw and he retracted his thought. “Or ask. I could ask.” The detective was still perplexed. Rather than admit he just didn’t get it, he pursued. Thinking that Shaw got what she wanted, he didn’t understand why she was still upset. “Are you ever _not_ moody?” he asked and didn’t intend for it to further annoy Shaw like it did.

Root watched her girlfriend turn and step on the balls of her feet to get in Lionel’s face. She really wished the good detective would learn to curb his curiosity when it came to matters that upset Shaw. “Moody?” Shaw yelled and Fusco retreated a bit. “I’ll tell you why I’m moody,” Sameen repeated with disdain. “Because that woman is so damn irritating!” Then, Shaw waited for Fusco’s response before she pulled back.

“Oh,” he said, sorry his friend was so upset. He looked over apologetically at Root, who felt there was too much going on for the well intentioned man to really understand. She smiled at him, to let him know she knew he was sorry.

* * *

“Let’s walk home,” she suggested when they got outside and Fusco asked if they were sure. Shaw agreed that walking might be better and off they went. Root gave her girlfriend the time she needed – which in Manhattan geography, turned out to be several blocks, before Sameen spoke.

“I shouldn’t even care, you know,” she opened up with. “I hardly know her and the woman I did know, well, I don’t even know where she is. I thought I knew her growing up, but I didn’t really, right? I mean, you think your mother is this caring, loving person and one day she just up and leaves. You know, you’re in shock really because you’re a kid and you don’t understand it. But your father tells you she had no choice and that it had to be something really big to make her go away, and that it was okay if I was angry. I liked my dad. A lot,” Shaw said thoughtfully.

Root had pushed her arm through Sameen’s as they walked along the quiet blocks heading toward the Penthouse. “It must have been very hard,” Root said, thinking how alone she felt in the world growing up.

“Yeah, it sucked for a while. But, then my father ….,” and Shaw’s voice cracked because she still couldn’t say what really happened now that she knew. “I mean, I thought it was bad enough that he was taken away in an accident …,” she said and paused.

Now Root could see the smallest amount of water building up in Shaw’s eyes. She gazed down into them; the lights in the street reflecting off the tears. “I know, Sweetie,” Root confirmed, aware of where this conversation was headed.

“Why should I care about her, Root?” Sameen asked sincerely – as if she really needed a good reason to understand the feelings inside her.

Root swayed a little, back and forth, as she gave thought to that question. “Because you still have feelings for her, Sameen. She’s not just one thing – the woman who caused you so much hurt. She’s the other part, too. The woman who was so good to you when you were young.”

Root’s explanations should have upset Shaw, even though they were logical and truthful. Instead, it made the tears well up and fall. This is why people like Shaw are comfortable with burying emotions and keeping them there. When they come up, they’re wreak havoc.

Only Root could deliver those words to Sameen; the ones that would pierce her heart because they were true; the ones that would make her bow her head into Root’s chest. In the dead of night, on the quietest street in all of Manhattan, Sameen Shaw allowed herself to do something she never did - she cried. The softest sobs came from her as she fell into Root’s caring arms that held her.

“It’s okay, Sameen,” Root assured her because she believed that. Unlike Shaw, who was certain life as she knew it was over because she was being weak; Root understood the expression of your true feelings was in fact – the sometimes the strongest thing one could do. Contrary to what Sameen believed; Root felt this was the most courageous thing Shaw had ever done. And given Sameen’s bravery track record; that was saying something.

Within minutes, Sameen pulled her head up and wiped away the last remaining tears. She sniffed back any attempt for them to continue, and wiped her nose with the tissue that Root held out instinctively. “You really are a Camp Fire Girl,” Shaw joked, because the tissue appeared out of nowhere.

“ **B** e **E** ver **A** lert and **R** eady!” Root proclaimed, holding her fingers up in the appropriate salute.

Sameen shook her head and smiled as the women started walking again. “I’m glad your motto wasn’t – ‘ **S** how, **U** se, **C** reate and **K** eep’. You know, because then the name of your company would have been – **SUCK**.”

Root loved that Sameen enjoyed her own jokes almost as much as she did. She pulled Shaw into her as they walked to the Penthouse. Sameen collected her thoughts and placed the shattered pieces of her heart back onto a shelf in boxes that locked. But the one thing she couldn’t put back was the feeling she had as they rode up in the elevator to the apartment.

“What the hell did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked Root so sincerely and with love that Root’s knees damn near gave out.

There was no appropriate response to that question, so Root did the next best thing. She pushed Sameen up against the wall when they entered the vestibule of their home and kissed her hard. She reached up and grabbed Sameen’s head to hold it in place, all the time her body wishing it could just meld with Sameen’s.

It was the spark that lit the fuse to their energy explosion. They were breathing examples of _Newton’s Laws of Motion_ as Sameen pushed back hard at Root, moving her into the next room. Then, objects that were motionless went flying with force as Sameen’s arms swept outward and cleared the dining room table. And as things accelerated, clothes were ripped with effort, bodies pushed against each other with force, and friction was definitely increasing.

All of that energy, produced simultaneous explosions that proved timing is everything.

Sameen’s head lay on Root’s body as the couple recovered from climaxes that neither had ever experienced before. Both their forms trembled, as if that lovemaking abated all physical boundaries and made them one.

The experience renewed Root’s faith that no two people were every meant to be together more than they were. It made Shaw feel as if Root was the only one in the world who could cause pain and confusion to be swept away off her, entirely.

The couple made their way upstairs … fell into the bed and under the covers and into each other’s arms. Root never felt like she belonged to someone so much in all her life; Shaw never felt so safe.

* * *

The morning brought a renewed energy as both women enjoyed breakfast that replenished their spent calories. Shaw picked up her phone and noticed several texts from her BEAR friends. “Janine has offered to beat Martine up for me,” Sameen noted to Root.

“She is devoted,” Root said. “But my guess is Ms. Rousseau is already suffering from the guilt of yesterday’s outcome. Which means you’re going to have to address them both when you get in.” Root wasn’t CEO just because of her technical skills.

“Me? Why me? Haven’t I been through enough? Don’t we have people who take care of this? Reese maybe? What the hell does he do, anyway? Or Finch! I bet if they promised to be really neat, he would invite them in his office and talk to them,” Shaw proposed, getting more animated the more she thought about having to do it herself.

Then, Root made that face – the one where she tilted her head, made her eyes doe-like, and smiled apologetically. The one that told Sameen – 'cute _, but only you can do it.'_ “Sorry, Sweetie,” she said, leaning over to kiss Shaw’s lips. “They will only listen to you.” Sameen was amazed at how confident Root was about these ridiculous assertions.

“What …how do …what makes you say that?” Shaw questioned. She had hoped the answer would give Root pause and she would retract her answer.

“Because they both have terrible crushes on you,” Root answered instantly. Isabelle nodded her head as if she wholeheartedly agreed.

“You don’t even know them!” Shaw complained to the chef.

“But I know you,” Isabelle clarified.

Most people would be honored that their charisma preceded them, but the only thing Shaw saw was more aggravation. “You …two ….,” is how she summed up her annoyance at their claims.

* * *

Root never mentioned it again on the way to work, but as the doors opened on Sameen’s floor, both women rushed at her – apologizing and begging forgiveness.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw moaned, rolling her eyes.

“Remember, it’s because they like you,” Root explained as she left her girlfriend to fend for herself. There was no use in Root shooing them away; they needed Shaw and that was that.

The doors closed as Shaw wished Root would just work her magic on the two women, both women talking over each other to get her attention.

“It’s okay,” she said, but they followed her to her desk, neither giving up their speech.

“I had no idea you were turning,” Martine explained unnecessarily.

“You should have been looking at her!” Janine yelled at her because she was still angry.

“I was looking at her!” Martine said defensively.

“Okay, look … It’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault and …and …I have no idea why you’re upset,” she said to Janine, “…But I’m okay. It’s okay.” Then, Shaw forced a smile on her face, hoping the two women would copy her …and go away.

“How is your head? Do you need anything? I’m staying right here today,” Janine announced as she sat next to Sameen’s desk.

“Oh, gawd,” Shaw moaned and Martine gave her a look that easily conveyed, - _“I can break her in two for you if you want._ ”

“I’ll do it,” Martine promised because she could only see how annoying the assistant was being.

Shaw dropped her head into her hands. She was a highly trained, decorated marine who got out of more dangerous situations than this. “THINK!” she said to herself as her palm hit her forehead.

Then, it came to her.

“Look guys, I really appreciate that you were worried about me, but I’m fine. Really, okay. No hard feelings, Martine.” Then, she looked at Janine who waited for her morsels of words. “No … worries,” she said, trying to put her at ease. “If you want to help me,” she said …and Janine leaped from the chair to beat Martine … who hadn’t moved.

“Anything,” Janine declared.

“Okay, but it will take both of you, so you’ll have to work …together,” Shaw explained and pointed back and forth to the women.

“No problem, here,” Martine announced.

“Okay, if you say so, Sameen,” Janine said, deciding she would put her feelings aside.

Shaw smiled and sat down at her desk. “This is my mother’s room number at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel,” she explained. “She has several doctor visits over the next week and I want to make sure she goes to them.” Then Shaw turned to Janine and looked up at her. “It will _really_ upset me if she refuses to go.” She knew making in personal would guarantee that Janine would bother Azar to no end.

“What do you need me to do?” Martine asked, just to be clear.

“She’s got her own bodyguard. Make sure she doesn’t interfere,” Shaw explained.

Janine looked at the paper. “Her first appointment is soon. Let’s go!”

Martine watched as the woman ran to the elevator as if someone just yelled - fire! “It’s gonna be a long day,” she said to Shaw.

  
Sameen thanked her and sat back in her chair, her feet now planted on the desk as she relaxed. She couldn’t think of a better way to pay her mother back than to sic Janine on her. And Martine could more than handle Ayala; of that Sameen was sure.

Everything was back to the way it should be, she thought. No one was bothering her and it was nice and quiet.

That was, until Karma paid her a visit.

As Sameen leaned back just an inch more to close her eyes and think about what she wanted for her second breakfast, the chair gave out and she fell over. Then, as she was rolling over on her hands and knees to get up, cursing the whole time, two shoes appeared in front of her. She lifted her head up slowly, almost certain of their owner.

“Have a minute, Sameen?” Iris asked and it wasn’t her usual warm tone.


	33. Getting to the Point

For a woman trained to obey her superiors, but disregard anyone who annoyed her with extreme prejudice, Shaw was definitely on the former side when it came to Iris. This was in spite of the fact that the woman never exerted any authority over Sameen. But Shaw respected Iris as an expert in an area she felt she knew nothing about – human emotions.

Shaw believed that the therapist had this uncanny knack for getting her to confess things.

“I... I…,” Sameen stammered as she rose to her feet. “Fell over,” she answered as if Iris had inquired. She looked back and pointed to the culprit chair, as if the therapist demanded to know who had the nerve to do that! 

“Are you ... okay?” Iris asked, the warmth back in her tone.

“Yeah,” Sameen answered quickly because she always brushed off being hurt. But then, she wondered if Iris would go easier on her if she admitted to being injured? “My …,” she said, putting her hand on her hip. “A little.” She grimaced at how pathetic that sounded – like a kid trying to get out of trouble. Suddenly, the train left the station, even though it was on the wrong track. Why would she be in any trouble? That was ridiculous; she decided, and went on the defense. Sameen deduced that there was only reason Iris would want to talk to her.

“I was hoping we could talk …,” Iris said, looking around wondering where Sameen’s guard dog of an assistant was. “In private.”

‘ _Oh, oh’_ , Shaw said to herself, but “Sure,” is what she answered. 

“My office?” Iris suggested because she didn’t want to impose.

‘ _Wow, she won’t let up_!’ Sameen decided, so she agreed.

* * *

The short walk to Iris’ office gave the therapist time to formulate her question. The same distance gave Shaw time to get her very unnecessary defenses together.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” Iris said, waiting for Shaw to sit down. “This won’t take long.”

That didn’t sound good to Shaw. “Is this about your boyfriend?” she blurted out because she had decided this was the number one reason Iris wouldn’t sound friendly. “He can be such a whiner, I swear! Did he tell you I helped him with his paperwork? Or that I apologized for hurting his feelings? Probably left all of that out. Okay, I did hit him last night … and maybe the other day … but you have to believe me, when he takes off the boyfriend cape, he can be very annoying. But we’re good. I mean, Fusco knows I wouldn’t hit him if I didn’t care,” Shaw rambled and when she heard herself, it didn’t sound as good as it did in her head.

There were so many things in that speech, that Iris was certain she could fill a notepad.

“Actually, Sameen, what happens between you and Detective Fusco doesn’t belong in here unless you bring it in,” Iris smiled.

“You don’t want to talk about … my aggression?” Shaw asked, just to be sure.

“Do _you_ want to talk about your aggression?” Iris asked back.

For a split second, Shaw thought this was an open invitation to brag; to talk about how she could snap and grab someone before they knew what hit them. Then, she remembered where she was. “No, I’m good,” she finally said.  
If only Sameen could have relaxed and given Iris the two seconds she needed to proceed. But patience wasn’t Shaw’s strong suit and the more she talked, the deeper she dug herself in.

“Sameen, I was wondering …,” Iris attempted to ask, but Shaw cut her off with guess number two.

“Is this about going to see my mother last night? I brought the gun because it makes me feel better, not because I really thought I was going to use it. You should have seen the expression on Lionel’s face though,” she laughed, “…when it was Root who pulled the gun on her.”

Now Iris couldn’t ignore that Shaw was hijacking the conversation and slowly reached for her pad. “Ms. Groves pulled a gun … on your mother?”  
Mistaking her alarm for mere interest, Shaw gave up the details. “My mother is refusing to seek treatment for her condition. She’s one stubborn woman. Thank God, I don’t take after her. Anyway, we went to see her last night … to convince her that she was making a mistake.”

“And you felt firearms were necessary?” Iris asked without judgement, but for clarification.

“I .. no. Well, Root did, but I think it was because she saw how upset I was.” Then, Shaw stopped and looked out the window, a small smile coming across her lips. “I don’t know how Root knows things about me before I know them, but she does.”

That simple statement was said with such sentiment, that Iris’ heart actually felt the joy. Sameen had truly come so far in trusting her emotional self. Such an admission months before would have angered Shaw and unnerved her. Now, she spoke openly and happily about how someone in her life knew her better than herself.

Sameen turned back to see the slightest smile on the therapist’s face. “Yeah, well … ,” Shaw said, collecting herself. “You probably didn’t call me in here to talk about how great my love life is.”

“I am very happy to hear that it is so positive for you, Sameen,” Iris said sincerely.

There was a long pause while Sameen felt her heart race because they seemed to be running out of things to say. “Yeah, so … no one was hurt, although I was aggravated as usual. My mother committed to going for her treatments … after Root aimed a gun at her.”

“Do you think your mother will follow through? Could she have agreed simply because of the weapon?” Iris asked.

Shaw smiled, thinking that one of the reasons she liked the doctor was that she always asked intelligent questions.  “I thought that myself. She has a habit of saying one thing and then just doing whatever it is she wants,” Shaw pointed out. “That’s why I sent Janine and Martine over to babysit them.” She was especially proud of that move and it showed in the broad grin and raised eyebrow. “She’ll have no choice now.”

Again, silence … Iris waiting to see what else Shaw might offer up; Sameen waiting for Iris to get to the point. “Did I cover what you wanted to discuss?” Shaw asked; always confused about where they were when they talked.

“Actually,” Iris smiled, “… I was wondering how _you_ were feeling? I heard about the boxing match and your trip to the ER.”

Sameen appreciated the doctor being so concerned, but she still wasn’t happy with the outcome of that event. In fact, if Sameen could blush, she would have, because she was embarrassed that she made a rookie mistake like getting distracted. “Oh, that?” she asked, scrunching up her face in disgust. “That was nothing.”

The expression on Iris’ face made it clear she didn’t buy that. It was that halfhearted smile; that appeared on only one side of her face for a second that gave her away. “I was wondering,” Iris began and leaned over a little towards Sameen, “… if you were feeling, perhaps, overwhelmed by emotions and were looking for a way to, oh, I don’t know, put them all back ,so to speak?”

Shaw was beginning to think that the only thing almost as fast as Root removing her clothes in the heat of the passionate moment, was Iris getting to the heart of a matter in one question. Both still took Sameen by surprise.

“Well, I … think … (clears throat) … uhm, yeah, my mother’s reappearance has brought up a lot of things,” Shaw admitted because honesty didn’t scare her. “I mean, I don’t push away my feelings about Root because they’re good ones. But that woman brings up …(clears throat) … hard ones.”

In Shaw’s mind, she had just answered Iris’ question truthfully. “Asked and answered,” she said, hoping this was the part where Iris thanked her and they went on with their lives … separately.

For Iris, the admission was the beginning.

“Tell me about those feelings, Sameen,” Iris asked in such a nice way that Shaw felt she wanted to say something.

Shaw drew a deep breath. “Being with her ... sucks,” she said eloquently.

* * *

Across town, Sameen’s mother was receiving her uninvited, unwanted guests.

“I beg your pardon, but why are you here exactly?” Azar asked when Martine insisted to Ayala that they be allowed in.

“I am Sameen Shaw’s administrative assistant,” Janine announced even though Azar knew who she was.

“Yes, I ..,” she tried, but Janine wasn’t finished.

“As such, my job is to make sure that Ms. Shaw is …,” and she stopped, thinking about which word would encompass all her goals. “Happy,” she decided. Martine stood behind her, smiling.

“Your job is to make her happy?” Azar asked, just to be clear.

“Yes, and right now, she’s concerned that you won’t go to your doctor visits and that, Ms. Morin, would not make her happy,” Janine explained.

“Well, I spoke to her last night and assured her that I would,” Azar clarified.

“And I spoke to her this morning and told her I … we … would make sure that you do,” Janine said feeling brave only because she knew Martine could protect her. “So, let’s go.”

Ayala started to take a step forward towards Janine; which made Martine take a step towards Ayala. Azar could see what was going on and that no confrontation would be helpful. She raised her hand to stop her daughter. “So, are you to accompany me on these visits?” she asked.

“And report back,” Janine smiled.

“Well, then it would seem I have no choice if Sameen’s happiness is hanging in the balance. Ayala, we will allow Sameen’s friends to accompany us,” Azar announced.

“Good!” Janine said, pulling on her suit jacket and thinking things had gone easier than she thought.

“Yeah,” Martine said, not as trusting and almost certain that her enthusiastic associate could still screw things up.

Unintentionally, of course.


	34. Hell No!

Martine didn’t need years of training to see an impending disaster approaching. Anyone who spent five minutes with the overzealous Janine could predict it was simply a matter of time. In Martine’s eyes, Shaw had just deputized the woman, and the power was going straight to her head.

“What is _up_ with her?” Ayala asked Martine, hoping for a straight answer.

Martine knew exactly what the younger woman was asking as Janine attempted to take charge of a woman that they both knew could not be taken charge of. “She really enjoys her work,” is all the BEAR Security staff member would say.

Janine, in the meantime, was helping Azar on with her coat. “What do you want me to call you? I can keep with Ms. Morin or Azar, because we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other,” Janine went on without punctuation, “….or Sameen’s mom, but I don’t think she’d like that, so no, it would have to be one of the first two.”

Azar stared and smiled, very much affected by the verbal whirlwind around her. “Are you _absolutely_ certain my daughter asked you to come to be with me? I mean, who is taking care of her whilst you are here paying so much attention to me?”

Martine had to admit it; the woman was clever. She saw the confused expression on Janine’s face immediately as she tried to answer that question. What _would_ Shaw do if she weren’t there to handle things for her? “Okay, let’s just go and we’ll figure that out,” Martine said, worried Shaw’s assistant would spontaneously combust from the careful thought she was exerting.

* * *

At the moment, Shaw was doing very well, or not well at all, depending on whom you asked.

“Tell me what that means?” Iris asked when Shaw said it sucked to be in Azar’s presence.

Shaw jumped off the couch, and for a minute, Dr. Campbell worried she was headed straight for the door. But she wasn’t. Shaw crossed her arms, her thumbs massaging the inside of her forearms as she walked to the window. “What does that mean? It means after finally not thinking about my mother every day and asking what I did to make her go away; after finally shutting down the hurt and pain and being able to function, she reappears in my life,” Sameen started.

Iris sat there listening attentively, aware of how hard this was for Sameen.

“Root says…,” Sameen laughed lightly, “…that my mother is not one person, but parts or something like that. So, she’s the mother who loved me, the mother who left me, and the mother who is trying to reconnect. Isn’t that multiple personality or something?” Sameen asked.

“No,” Iris smiled because she thought Root had done an excellent job of explaining it to Sameen.

“Well, great,” Shaw said, flopping back down on the couch, “… then I’m stuck with a boatload of mothers.”

“Do you want to reconnect?” Iris asked.

“Want to? It doesn’t matter if I want to! She forced her way back, she wouldn’t go away, she got us involved in some pretty dangerous stuff, and we keep saving her ass. Then, she decides she’s going away …finally … and it turns out it’s because she’s sick and wants to sneak away, to make her exit as dramatic as her entrance.” The whole thing annoyed Sameen.

“Why would she refuse treatment?” Iris asked, thinking she might know, but wondered if Sameen did.

“See? This is why you should visit people instead of having me come in here. I can only tell you a sliver of what is going on in their minds. But if you were to visit my mother, she could explain what her very own brand of psychosis is to you.” Shaw really felt like the middle man in this whole thing.

“But before, you worried that had I spoken to Detective Fusco, and he may not have given me the whole picture,” Iris pointed out and drew a death stare from Shaw. She hated when the therapist pointed out the inconsistencies of her statements, wishes and desires. “What is important to me,” Iris continued, “..is what _you_ think about these situations.”

“I think Azar is a pain in the ass,” Shaw answered with a straightforward statement.

Iris tried another way. “What would you like to happen with Azar?”

Shaw stared at Iris, her deep brown eyes motionless while she thought about that question. There were glimmers of anger and confusion that flashed in them; more hurt than Sameen could admit to … for fear of becoming weak. “I want her to go away.”  
Iris noted the anguish with which Sameen uttered those words. She also wasn’t convinced it was what Shaw really wanted.

Either way, she was about to have little say in the matter.

* * *

The doctor’s staff simply could not explain how Azar’s name and information were already entered into the system, but it was there, along with her appointment for a consultation. All of her test results had been recorded, as well, as if someone had spent a great deal of time putting in all of that data. In fact, it took seconds.

As much as Azar thought she understood about the potentially powerful program, she didn’t realize how deep the connection with her ran. She believed once she removed her signature from its databank, she was an unknown. After all it had learned about her, and after she tried to sever her tie, the machine calculated what was going on and renamed her moniker – _Mother_.

The machine was starting to discover its own identity … as her offspring.

Root was pleased that the program had connected the dots so quickly once they asked it to help Azar. She was perplexed by the personalization and wondered where it get that from. After all, Azar had not created the machine; but she certainly had enhanced it.

“Why is Azar – _Mother_?” Root queried as she tinkered with the program. She was tracing how the sequencer had managed to input all of Azar’s data into the doctor’s computer.

‘She is my mother,’ the answer appeared.

“Why?” Root asked again.

The machine then gave the dictionary definition: ‘She brought me up with love and care’.

“Hmm,” Root said thinking about this interplay. The program was taking definitions and applying them to its own experience.

When asked what the woman’s chances were of surviving her disease, the screen indicated a high statistic if the medical protocol was followed.

* * *

That protocol was being outlined in great detail to Azar at the same moment. The doctor explained they had great success with the treatment, but that it required rest and care. The physician asked if she had a residence that was quiet and someone to look after her for the duration. Azar nodded to both. While she and her doctor decided what the plan should be, someone else was setting things in motion.

“I wonder what he’s saying,” Janine said in the waiting room as she sat with Martine and Ayala.

“I’ll be sure to update you,” Ayala said, annoyed that they had company. She had decided they were the reason why Azar asked to go into the doctor alone.

Martine chuckled at how the younger woman seemed to share her half-sister’s talent for sarcasm, but never looked up from the waiting room magazine she flipped through.

“I _get_ her,” Ayala said of the devout administrative assistant, looking at Martine. “But what is your deal?”

Martine looked up slowly, her expression deadpan. “My deal is to make sure you don’t get in her way.”

Janine smiled smugly, as if to say – _take that_! Just then, her phone signaled she had a text. “That’s weird,” she said as she looked down at the phone. The sound coming from her phone sounded like the ringtone of one of those public phones on the street.

“That is one weird ringtone,” Ayala commented.

“That’s really odd,” Janine noted. “That’s not Shaw’s ringtone, but the message is from her.”

“Don’t ask,” Martine was cautioning Ayala, more for her own sake, but it was too late.

“What …is Sameen’s … ringtone?” the younger sibling just had to ask.

As soon as she did, Martine dropped her head into her hand.  “Go ahead,” she urged Janine. “Play it for her.”

Janine pressed the button and the theme song from Moulin Rouge; and ‘ _Marmalade_ ’ played. Martine had heard it a million times and knew it by heart. She looked right at the surprised Ayala and said … “Giuchie, giuchie, ya-ya, da-da,” Martine said poker faced.

Ayala stared back and looked back at Janine who was paying them no attention and was reading the text from her boss. “Wow, that’s very generous,” she said.

“What’s that?” Martine asked.

“Sameen is insisting that Azar stay with them while she is receiving her treatments,” she shared.

“She has a place to stay,” Ayala pointed out, not thrilled that someone else was taking charge.

“She says … ‘ _Tell Ayala that the suite at the hotel still means she has to walk through a public place and she’d be more comfortable with us_ ’,” Janine read. The phone rang again and the next text said to make sure that Ayala understood the invitation included her.

Martine looked at Janine and grabbed the phone out of her hand, demanding – “Let me see that.” She was having trouble thinking that the woman who sent her guard dog to annoy her mother was having a change of heart. But - there was Shaw’s number and name and the messages.

“Shaw? Is this you?” Martine typed back to make sure.

“ _Who the hell else would it be?”_ came the response.

“Okay …,” Martine said, swearing that ‘sounded’ just like Shaw. She handed the phone back to Janine.

As soon as the patient appeared in the waiting room, it was Janine, not Ayala who jumped to her feet first. “Okay, I will take you to the Penthouse, while Martine and Ayala collect whatever things you need from the hotel room. Ms. Shaw wants you to stay with her while you’re going through this.”

“Excuse me?” Azar asked because it was surprising news.

“She’s insisting and she’s asked me to make sure it’s taken care of, so let’s take care of it,” Janine barked, back in command.

Martine looked at the other two women for a minute, but followed Janine to the elevator; her marching orders in hand.

“I have to get better,” Azar whispered to Ayala, “…or that woman will kill me.”

* * *

In the meantime, a synopsis of Azar’s meeting with the doctor suddenly appeared on Root’s computer screen. ‘The patient needs to be accommodated in a private residence and monitored,’ it said at the end.

That sounded like the hotel suite at the Waldorf Astoria under the careful supervision of Ayala.

Not quite.

* * *

Downstairs, Sameen was finishing up her impromptu session with Dr. Campbell.

“Sameen, you’re feeling a lot of different things about your mother. You’ve had very different experiences with her and that’s causing all these conflicting emotions.”

“Yeah,” Sameen said.

“Could I make a suggestion?” Iris said slowly. She wasn’t surprised when Sameen gave her a look. “I’d like you to write down words that come to mind whenever you think about your mother throughout the day.”

“Just words?” Shaw asked. “Throughout the day? Whenever I think about her?”

“Yes,” Iris confirmed.

‘ _This will be easier than shooting bad guys through brick walls,_ ’ Shaw’s cognitive brain yelled. Finally, a simple task for therapy. “Sure,” Sameen agreed.

Now, all she had to do was not think about her mother. She decided she would keep busy the rest of the day, putting her mother out of her mind.

Until, of course, she got home and found her waiting for her.


	35. Indescribable

Sameen thanked Dr. Campbell as she left, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what for. She always felt worse when she was in there, although – inexplicably, she felt better afterwards. As if, somehow, the process lifted the lid off her emotions and let the steam out. She felt … less pressure inside. Still, she didn’t want to be Iris’ poster child for mental health, so when she saw Reese in the hallway, she pointed at him.

“You know how they train us not to give up Intel, even under torture?” she asked and only John would nod his head like this was a normal question. For the Mayhem Twins, it was. “Well, while we’re learning to keep things buried, they’re teaching those people how to unscrew the cover without leaving fingerprints!” Shaw threw her head back towards Iris’ office and her voice got higher and softer as she spoke.

Reese looked down the hallway to make sure he understood what had his friend so upset. “Doc?” he asked and Shaw nodded her head. “Remind me never to tell you the combination to my locker,” he said because he understood what Shaw was distressed about. Spilling one’s inner most thoughts had an unnatural feel to people like him and Shaw.

“Do you know they give out homework?” she shouted as John left, as if this was an egregious task that should be addressed immediately. “I think you should … do something about that,” she said in a low voice because she wasn’t sure she meant John in particular.

* * *

While Shaw worried that the door to her feelings might come off its hinges, Root was upstairs talking to Finch about the newly formed independence of the program.

“I don’t know, Harry, but calling Azar her ‘mother’ was a little personal, don’t you think?” Root asked as he looked over the code on the screen.

“It’s as if it is building on its daily experiences,” he noted.

“ _She_ , Harry. It’s a _she_ ,” Root corrected him.

“Well, that might be part of the issue, Root. A program should not have an identity and certainly not one that comes with a gender,” Harold pointed out.

“It uploaded all of Azar’s information into the doctor’s computer,” Root shared.

“But for whose benefit? Ms. Morin’s? Or the machine’s? he asked.

Root had to admit, it was a good question. One that she was going to find the answer to. Unfortunately, she didn’t want to work on this at BEAR and so she set out to finish her day, working from home.

* * *

Sameen was downstairs suffering from the phenomenon of telling oneself not to think about something and then not being able to think of anything else. She knew of only one thing that had the ability to throw her mind completely off track, effectively.

“Oh,” she said as she was about to go get Root, and Root was standing there.

“Miss me?” Root asked already knowing the answer.

“Look,” Shaw said, looking around – the place eerily quiet without Janine there, “…Kiss me,” she commanded. She looked all around to make sure her request for affection wouldn’t somehow backfired and humiliate her.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Root said – not questioning the reason behind the sudden invitation. She was ready, willing, and devastatingly able to comply.

“It has to be hard,” Shaw added, because she needed her cognitive lobe wiped clean.

“That happens to be my specialty,” Root practically giggled at the opportunity. She grabbed Sameen’s face gently and pulled her in to a kiss that was preceded by the slightest tease of opening her mouth and gently touching Shaw’s lips with her tongue.

* _Insert image of train going off track and exploding_ *

Root didn’t let go until she was afraid Shaw wasn’t breathing, which she wasn’t. “How’d I do?” Root asked, smiling and rolling her tongue over her bottom lip, savoring the taste.

Shaw’s brain was too busy getting oxygen back into her body to form full sentences. Her finger touched her lips to see if there really was a fire. “Deadly,” Shaw said because her vernacular often had a military slant to it.

“I can fire when ready, Sir,” Root said, saluting and able to follow Shaw’s vocabulary.

Shaw had forgotten why that kiss was so important, but whatever it was, was gone. Along with most of her other cognitive abilities. “So … that …,” Shaw said, touching her bee-stung bottom lip, “…yeah.”

That about summed it all up and Root got it. “Happy to oblige. Really.”

Sameen nodded her head and tried to recollect what she had been doing _. Was she working on something?_

“Hey, I was thinking of working from home. Want to join me?” Root asked and Shaw nodded.

“That sounds good,” Shaw said.

The beautiful train wreck that Root’s kiss made of her brain was working out just fine. So well in fact, that Shaw never saw Martine round the corner upon her return.

“Your obedient servant accomplished her mission, Shaw,” Martine called out to her.

Sameen had no recall of what she asked her to do, although she remembered sending Janine somewhere. “Thank you,” Sameen said, gathering her jacket and following Root to the elevator. “I really … really appreciate that.” Again, she wasn’t sure what she was thanking Martine for, but she was certain if it involved Janine, a show of appreciation was expected.

Martine frowned at Shaw’s response. The whole thing didn’t make sense to her. She was suspicious, but Shaw had confirmed via text it was what she wanted.

* * *

“Where’s Sameen?” Ayala asked, coming back from the ladies room.

“She must be anxious to see her mother,” Martine deduced by how quickly she departed.

“ _My_ mother,” Ayala added, making sure she wasn’t left out of the scenario.

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is that she is Sameen’s mother,” Martine clarified.

“I hope she appreciates how devoted you are,” Ayala noted as she texted her mother to let her know Shaw was coming.

Azar had given Ayala instructions to go with Martine to BEAR, to see if she could find Sameen and verify that this is what she wanted. Azar knew her daughter, and a change of heart was not something Sameen did casually. Or ever.  
Rather than upset the well intentioned assistant, Azar agreed to go to the Penthouse with Janine because the woman would not let up. She had been instructed to deliver the woman to the apartment and she was going to do just that. Pleasing Shaw was utmost in her mind.

* * *

On the way home, Root explained what had transpired that morning. She told Shaw that the program, upon recognizing Azar again, made sure that the woman’s records were sent to the doctor’s office. “And this is a little weird,” Root said as they rode up in the elevator.

Shaw worried because she knew Root’s definition of weird was way past what anyone else’s definition might include. “What?” Sameen asked, hoping Isabelle would have something for them to eat when they arrived.

“It called … Azar … _Mother_ ,” Root said and waited for her girlfriend’s reaction.

It didn’t take long.

“I swear, Root, why don’t you just let me shoot that thing and put it out of _our_ misery?” Sameen asked, her answer to anything that bothered them.

“That would be most uncivilized,” they both heard as they entered the hallway of the apartment.

Neither was expecting to see Janine there, beaming, and standing near Azar who had just uttered those words.

Both women were surprised, but Root knew to step in front of Shaw for fear she would lunge at one of the uninvited guests. “What? Why?” Shaw asked, staring at the couple.

“As you instructed,” Janine said, proudly. She stepped aside and waved her hand to show the delivery she made.

“I wanted … you to stay with her,” Shaw said, trying desperately to sound calm.

“And I did!” Janine smiled.

Root could tell there was something going on that they seemed very unaware of. It wasn’t a huge leap for the tech genius to surmise that, if the machine could download documents to the doctor’s computer, it might be sending its own messages.

“Did you get something from Sameen?” Root asked as Shaw huffed.

“A text, telling me to bring her mother here,” Janine shared, confused that her actions seemed to upset her boss. She handed Root her phone.

“Don’t be upset with her,” Azar said and didn’t mean to sound like she was telling Sameen what to do … but she did.

“Do _NOT_ tell me what to do,” Shaw yelled and Janine jumped.

“Look,” Root said, showing Shaw the message that appeared to come from Shaw’s phone with the instructions to bring Azar to the Penthouse.

“It’s from you ...Martine checked, and it said it was from you,” Janine stammered. The thought that she had done something to displease Sameen made her chest tighten and her head light.

Root looked at Shaw with a raised eyebrow which clearly indicated that she should calm the woman down before she passed out.

Too late.

Janine’s head couldn’t take it and she started to fall … right into Shaw’s quick thinking arms. “Oh, geez,” Shaw said as she caught the fainting woman.

“It’s the machine,” Azar said, directly to Root as if nothing else was going on.

“Yes, I figured that,” Root confirmed without saying too much.

“ _Hello_?” Shaw said to her techie lover and machine-mad mother.

“I am so sorry,” Janine murmured and opened her eyes to see she had died and gone to heaven because that was the only explanation for her coming to in Shaw’s arms. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” she asked.

“Root?” Shaw said, because she knew how to catch a fainting person, but it didn’t mean she knew what to do with them after that.

“I suggest we look at its code and see if it’s extrapolating connections,” Azar suggested to Root.

‘ _Damn_!’ Root thought to herself. ‘ _A mother-in-law who speaks code. I  really hope Sameen doesn’t kill her_.’ “My thought exactly,” Root said, rushing to her office with Azar to see if they could figure this out.

* * *

Bear walked in to see what all the excitement was about. The first thing he saw, besides the woman he didn’t care for going with Root, was Shaw holding another woman in her arms. His judgmental look was undeniable.

“OUCH!” Janine yelled when she suddenly found herself on the floor when Shaw dropped her.

“Oh, sorry,” Sameen said, pulling her up and dusting her shoulders off as if that made it all better. Actually, it did.

“I’m so sorry,” Janine said to Sameen.

“It’s not your fault. You did what I asked and I really appreciate that,” Shaw said.

“So, you don’t want her living here?” Janine asked to be sure.

“Living? Here? No,” Shaw said, the thought abhorrent.

“How did I get that message then?” Janine wondered.

Shaw smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said she didn’t know, but was sure Root would figure it out. Then, she thanked Janine again and said she’d call for a cab to take her home.

Being back in Sameen’s good graces was all the woman truly cared about. Waking up in Shaw’s arms was icing on the cake. The bump would go away later that day; but the thrill of being that close to her boss, would last a lifetime.

Janine’s adoration was unnerving to Sameen, but she managed to smile and thank her again as she slowly and gently guided her to the elevator and waved goodbye.

* * *

“You better have not eaten all the good ice cream,” Sameen said to Bear as she made her way into the kitchen to feed her emotions. There on the counter, as if waiting for her, was a pad and pen. It was actually the paper Isabelle used for the grocery shopping, but it reminded Sameen what Iris asked her to do. Grabbing the ice cream container and spoon, she sat down and looked around to make sure no one would witness her actually complying and doing her assignment.

“Words that come to mind when I think of my mother,” she said, taking a large spoonful of the dessert and shoving it in her mouth. With the spool still in place, she took the pen and wrote each word after she spoke it.

“Annoying, bossy, cunning, domineering, egotistical, foolish, greedy, hotheaded, impatient …,” she wrote as if someone was dictating the list.

“Ha, this is pretty easy,” she said as she scooped more ice cream and placed it in her mouth. The words seemed to jump to the front of her brain as she wrote them down. “Judgmental, kind, loving …” her hand wrote and she stopped. “No, that’s not.. “ she said, and looked at Bear who was more interested in her sharing her snack than her assignment. She ripped the paper off the pad and scrunched it up in a ball, throwing it in the trash.

“This is why I hate homework,” she said as she walked out of the room with the ice cream.

Bear could have followed, but instead he noticed the rolled up piece of paper that seemed to upset Sameen … _while_ she was eating.

He figured it had to be something big for that to happen.

He took it in his mouth and headed straight to Root.


	36. Juxtaposing Positions

As Shaw grumbled all the way into the living room and ingested her favorite ice cream, Bear went on his way to complete his mission. He took the list of adjectives and brought it straight away to Root. At first, she tried to ignore him, because Azar and she were in the middle of deciphering the machine’s recent activities. But the dog knew it had to be important because it upset Shaw … while she was eating …and he knew how rare that was. So, he insisted Root pay him attention. He pushed his head in her lap which she mistook for wanting to be petted. Then, he sat there with his paw in her lap, which she misinterpreted as his request to play ball. She picked one up and threw it across the room, but he didn’t move.

‘ _She really needs a refresher course,_ ’ is what the mammal was thinking. Finally, he growled … his way of saying … ‘ _Hey, limited brain functioning human, read this_!’ He had dropped the list in her lap.

“Okay, what is this?” Root asked, and Bear was so jealous of Shaw’s ability to roll her eyes. Root unfurled the crumpled paper and read it. She looked at Bear and asked - “Where did you …?” … and he barked - Shaw.

“He seems rather insistent you pay him attention, “ Azar noted of the highly intelligent dog. He figured it was a compliment, but he snarled at her anyway.

“It’s okay, Bear; Azar is helping us,” Root explained, but he wasn’t buying it. Then, she read through the list silently, recognizing the handwriting as Sameen’s. She folded it and put it in her pocket. She smiled uncomfortably at Azar, who was waiting for her to turn her attention back to the screen. “Shopping list,” she lied, and the change in her mood was palpable. “Where were we?” she said, and there was only one place she wanted to be.

“This can …. wait,” Azar said, because she knew only one thing distracted the genius like this and it was her daughter.

Root was intuitive enough to know that nothing was going to get done until she addressed this. “I’ll be right back,” she smiled as she got up and left the room.

“She’ll make a great daughter-in-law,” the woman thought out loud and soon found out she wasn’t alone. The growl announced that Bear had stayed behind … and this time, he wasn’t taking his eyes off her.

* * *

By the time Root entered the living room; Sameen had finished the ice cream and was lying back, with the pillow over her mouth as she muttered her explanation of how that happened. “K follows J, and there are only so many words that start with K,” she said to the smothering pillow.

“Sweetie?” Root said, noticing the empty ice cream container as she sat on the couch next to her list-writing girlfriend.

So deep in the self-exploratory stage was Shaw, that when Root lifted the pillow off her face, she pushed up and said; “Not like ‘ _kinky_ ’ would come to mind, right?”

“Well, _that_ confirms it wasn’t about me,” Root asserted and drew a quizzical look from her girlfriend.

“What wasn’t about you?” Shaw emphasized, and Root pouted. “Never mind,” Shaw suggested because she wanted to forget the list, the assignment, Iris, and most other things.

“So you don’t think I’m; …’ _Annoying, bossy, cunning, domineering, egotistical, foolish, greedy, hotheaded, impatient_?’ Root read from the list she took out of her pocket.

“Where did you get that?” Shaw asked horrified that her discarded list was in Root’s hand. “Did you go through the garbage?”

“No,” Root assured her.

“How?” Shaw asked, sitting up and looking at the kitchen door.

“Bear was worried ….,” Root explained and immediately held onto her compact Persian firecracker when she went to jump up and harm the dog. “He brought it to me …,” Root tried again to show the dog meant well, but Sameen still pushed up against Root’s hands to go after him.  “Before you do anything, can you tell me … why you’re writing about your mother?” Root said, because she was certain the list was about her. Had it been about Root, she would have felt it in her bones. She handed the list back to Sameen, who looked as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to take it. Finally, she grabbed it and shoved it in her pocket.

“Stupid … Doctor Campbell,” Shaw said, in a low voice, turning her head away. She busied her hands with pulling her ponytail tight.

“Ugh,” Root said, leaning back on the couch next to Shaw. “I hated those exercises.” That was only a half truth.

Shaw turned to look back at Root and frowned. “What … exercises?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, you know, the ones Doc gives you because she wants you to continue …,” and Root made air quotes and continued, “the … process … after you leave her office.” Root said it so calmly, without any hint of frustration or aggravation.”

This was the first time Sameen ever heard anything about Root …and Iris. “You? Talked? To Iris?”

“Sure, she’s really good at what she does. One of the best, really,” Root said smiling. “I only hire the _best_ ,” she teased as she played with a long strand of hair on Sameen’s head.

“You never told me you went to her,” Shaw said, unsure if she was annoyed at herself for not asking or annoyed at Root for not sharing that tidbit.

“I didn’t want anything to interfere with you going to talk to her. I know you don’t always like to and I guess I didn’t want my experience to color your perceptions,” Root said. Talking about her inner most feelings was not quite the same issue for Root as it was for Shaw.

“Why? Was it …bad?” Shaw asked, and several thoughts flashed. If it were, she’d have to do something to Iris. If it were, she would refuse to go back out of solidarity. “Because I’ll refuse to go back … you know, out of solidarity,” Shaw assured Root.

“No!” Root said, laughing with her eyes and then her lips. “It was wonderful, really good,” she assured Shaw whose entire face frowned.

“Really good?” Shaw asked because it was like someone saying they enjoyed papercuts.

“Yes, Sameen; really good. I don’t regret speaking to her at all,” Root assured the doubtful woman.

“But … how?” Shaw asked, confused how anyone could describe this experience with such enthusiasm.

“Oh, it was hard, I admit. I had to talk about my childhood, the feelings of being alone,” Root began.

“She _made_ you talk about that!” Shaw demanded to know and her blood pressure started escalating. Root loved how protective Sameen was, but she put her hand on the steel like arm and ever so gently explained that … “No, she never made me do anything.”

“But … all those memories. That must have been hard,” Shaw said, because she could only imagine how tough it had been for the love of her life.

“Yeah, it was. But Iris is incredibly patient and supportive and really helped me through all of that,” Root said, smiling because she knew she would do the same for Shaw. “I go back whenever I feel like I need a …tune-up.”

“Great, so _both_ of us are in therapy,” Shaw said, disgusted.

“Name one person you don’t think would benefit from it,” Root wisely suggested.

“ME!” Shaw tried, but Root cast her that raised eyebrow, tilted head, half smile look of doubt.

And then as if the facial expression didn’t say it all, Root added, “You have a woman who disappeared, watch you grow up voyeuristically, reappeared with a machine into your life and you don’t think talking about that would help?”

Shaw hated when Root was right and she was beginning to realize, Root was right a lot. “Fine,” she answered that she couldn’t argue against Root’s logical points. “But I don’t have to like it,” she added, in case there was any doubt.

“Oh, I know, Sweetie,” Root said, leaning in to kiss the full pout on Shaw’s lips. As she did so, she slipped her hand back into Sameen’s pocket and extracted the crumpled paper. “Why don’t you …,” she said as her finger ran the length of Shaw’s arm, “…work on this a little longer and I’ll promise you the _best_ meal you’ve ever had.”

If there was a way to get to Shaw’s heart, it was through the stomach. That was _Sameen 101._

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, easily tempted by the promise of good food. “Ok, steak … and not just any steak,” she warned that her reward would come with conditions.

“Oh, darlin’, who said _anything_ about steak,” Root cooed in her ear, leaving Sameen as close to speechless as she could be. The smile prevented her from talking until Root was on her way back to help Azar.

“No, I really …Oh! Okay, yes, that’s good … yes, but after that … I want steak. A really good …. Steak,” Shaw said, her voice trailing off as she thought about Root’s promise.

_God, that woman knew how to distract her … or make her focus_ , she thought, as she picked up the list and started writing again. She tapped her chin with the pen waiting for the words to come to her. It took a few minutes, but then the flow of adjectives started to flow. “M … manipulative. N … narcissistic, operative, parental, quizzical, resolve, strange, tangential, unavailable, volatile, W … W… ,” Sameen said, trying to think what came to mind when she thought of her mother.

“Worried?” came the woman’s voice behind Sameen.

“Geez, do you ever knock?” Sameen said, jumping and folding the paper over. Of course, there was no door to the large living room.

“I do apologize,” Azar said, and walked closer to where Sameen sat on the couch. “I do worry, Sameen,” she assured her. She sat down slowly.

“What makes you …why are you saying that? This has nothing to do with you,” Sameen tried to say, defensively.

“Oh,” Azar said, “I heard some words and thought perhaps you were writing them about me. I apologize.”

Sameen stared at her, unsure of what to say. “You don’t strike me as the type that _worries_ ,” Sameen said, shoving the paper in her pocket.

“Well, you of all people should understand that a calm exterior is imperative,” Azar explained. “I worried a great deal, Sameen,” she said softly as she rose from the seat.

“Not enough to come back,” Sameen said sharply.

“Stop it!” Azar said sternly. “If you’re angry at me, then why insist I go for treatments in a city where you live? Why not send me away? “ She regretted the tone as soon as she spoke. “I … am sorry,” she said and it was sincere.

“It’s okay,” Sameen said, tired of fighting the woman.

“I can never make it up to you, Sameen,” Azar said, having given the idea a great deal of thought.

“Just …,” Sameen said slowly, “… get better.”

Azar smiled, grateful that the anger had left Sameen’s voice. She walked slowly down the hallway to Root’s office.

“W…,” she heard Sameen repeat as she continued her assignment. “Wearing … me … down,” she completed the thought.


	37. Kiss and Trouble

“She says to wait here,” Ayala said to Martine when she read her mother’s latest text. “You mind if I hang our here?” she asked her reluctant hostess. What Azar didn’t want was for things to get any tenser back at the Penthouse. She and Root were close to figuring out what was going on with the machine.

“Sure, suit yourself,” Martine said and when the woman stood there, she huffed and picked up a pile of papers that were covering a chair so she could sit down.

“Thanks,” Ayala said, looking around at the interior of Martine’s cubicle. “No family?” she asked when she noticed there were no pictures in frames.

Martine, who was busy working on her computer, lowered her head, groaned at the question and then answered; “None I’d want to be reminded about every day.”

Ayala actually thought that was funny and laughed.

“Not like I got any sisters like you do,” Martine elaborated.

“You mean the kind that walk on water?” Ayala retorted and Martine turned back to stare at her, trying to decide if she should snap her like a twig.

“I figure you got IDF training, am I right?” Martine asked and Ayala nodded her head. She had seen the younger woman fight and could tell from her moves, she had been militarily trained. The truth was, Ayala had a great deal of it. “That doesn’t mean I can’t take you and put you on this ground in seconds,” Martine threatened.

The younger woman, who, when her face softened, looked more like her half-sister than Martine cared to admit, leaned forward in her chair. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It does.”

Martine’s head snapped back as she processed that challenge. She had just been dared; in a cubicle; by a neophyte whom she could barely stand. Oh no, she decided, she needed to teach this woman a lesson. The hard way. “That’s it,” she said, getting up swiftly and pushing her chair in to give her room to floor her guest. She would have to be very quick and careful so as not to hit the woman’s head on any of the furniture and cause a gash. Blood was awful to get out of carpet. Martine turned and reached down for the younger woman.

To say that Martine was disoriented when the next thing she was looking at was the ceiling would be an understatement. Ayala had moved so quickly and taken her down so fast, she never knew what hit her. The frown that covered Martine’s face confirmed that she was surprised at the way this turned out. She was looking up into Ayala’s face and attempted to move, but could tell instantly she had her in a limb hold that prevented any movement. She had been beaten, and yet, she didn’t feel angry.

Embarrassed maybe, but not angry.

Smiling eyes stared down at her, as light brown hair cascaded down Ayala’s face. “I should have mentioned I was first in my class,” she said and she sounded more apologetic than smug.

“You can let me up now, you made your point,” Martine said, annoyed at herself for underestimating the younger woman.

“Not before I do this,” Ayala said, and with that, bent down and kissed Martine on the lips. Martine’s eyes grew wider the closer the woman got because she had no idea what she was going to do. But now that she was locked in the softest kiss she had ever felt, she stopped trying to get up. Finally, after what felt like a stream of glorious minutes, Ayala released Martine’s lips, but not her body. “I’ve wanted to do that for some time now, but if I have offended you in anyway, then you can hit me when I let go,” the trained soldier explained. With that, she released Martine and in one jump, got up on her feet and stepped aside, offering her hand to help the stunned woman up.

Martine’s brain yelled to jump up and retaliate, but she found her hand pushed out, accepting the help.

“I’m sorry,” Ayala repeated because she couldn’t tell what Martine was thinking.

Martine had put her knuckle up to her lips and held it there, as if she was checking to see if she liked it or not.

“You … want to get a beer or something?” Ayala finally asked.

“Yeah,” Martine agreed because she certainly felt like she could use one.

Martine wasn’t sure what she thought just yet. She was surprised, but her body seemed to be reacting like it was the most pleasant surprise it had ever had. The woman certainly had proven her athletic skills. “You’re good,” she said, giving Ayala the highest compliment she could.

“Thanks,” the younger woman blushed because she was glad she acted on her impulses.

* * *

While Azar finished working with Root, and Sameen finished as much of the list as she could stand to do and then fell asleep, Ayala was sharing what it was like to grow up in the shadow of a sister she had never met.

“It was so weird, the first time I saw her,” she said after the second beer. “I felt as if I knew her and yet, she thought I was the maid. She had no clue I even existed.”

“Well, that was one messed up family reunion,” Martine commented. “Maybe, now … you guys can, you know, start getting to know each other.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ayala said, and she sounded sad that she might not get the chance.

“Shaw can be really reasonable … at times … if she’s eaten,” Martine said.

Ayala liked Martine’s sense of humor and laughed. “I’ll try to catch her after a meal then.”

The two enjoyed each other’s company until Ayala received a text that her mother was leaving and would meet her back at the hotel. “I’d like to do this again soon, sometime, if that’s okay with you,” Ayala suggested.

Martine was confused about all of this. Her head told her this was not a good idea, but her body had responded so rapidly …and continuously … that she had a hard time cutting it off. “I gotta think about this,” Martine said honestly because she was completely devoted to Shaw, consciously and subconsciously.

“Hey, I don’t want you to think this is my way of trying to take something away from my older sister,” Ayala explained, understanding the dilemma. “I decided my mother and sister were both getting what they wanted, and thought maybe it was time for me to go after what I wanted.”

“Makes sense,” Martine said.

“Good, then I’ll leave you with this …,” she said, kissing the woman gently again, “…while you think it over.”

Ayala smiled as she touched Martine’s knee and left the bar. Martine watched her leave and then turned back and drained the rest of her glass. She had never seen that coming. She was just about to leave when she got a text from her new suitor asking her if she wanted to go out to dinner later that night. “You can’t think on an empty stomach,” the younger woman noted and said she knew a great place for steaks.

* * *

Sameen did not have a restful sleep; the feelings about that list of adjectives still poking at her while she slumbered. Worse, she woke up and could not smell anything delicious cooking in the kitchen. She slowly opened her eyes as the large tan image of a bear came into view. She shook her head and jumped up, her hands grabbing to find something … anything … she could use as a weapon. Then, as the surreal image came into focus, it started to remove its head. And underneath it was … Root. Sameen knew immediately she couldn’t … just couldn’t … even ask what her insane girlfriend was doing dressed in a bear costume.

“I was entertaining at the BEAR’s quarterly children’s party,” Root explained even though no one asked. She took the large head piece off and said in a deep sing song voice; “Mr. Berenstein was a big hit.”

The whole time Shaw refused to even look at her. “How could you let her do this?” she asked the dog instead. Bear whined and ran away, not taking any responsibility, as usual.

“I wasn’t gone long,” Root assured her as she stepped out of the oversized costume. “And you were sound asleep on the couch.”

So asleep that she never heard Azar leave or Root instruct Isabelle to text her as soon as Shaw moved. Root was a big believer in keeping commitments, like the children’s party that was in the building, but she didn’t let anything interfere with her time with Shaw.

“Is that your list?” Root asked, casting an eye to the paper on the table.

“Yeah,” Shaw confirmed, noticing for the first time that Root wore very little under that costume. “I can’t believe I slept through … your performance.” She rolled her eyes as she declared that.

“Well, I can perform for you anytime,” Root said and straddled Sameen’s lap, pushing her back. “So, you finished your list and I promised you a delectable, scrumptious meal.”

It was as if the genius CEO’s _other_ calling was to know how to unravel Sameen when she was grumpy, string by string, until she lay in an unfettered ball of looseness, ready and waiting for Root to play with her. Root started by slowly unbuttoning Sameen’s shirt and pulling it out of her pants… not slowly, but quickly because she understood what a turn on power was for Shaw. She ran her palms over Sameen’s shoulders until her bra straps fell down, exposing the upper most part of her breasts. “Now, this is the perfect appetizer,” Root cooed as she put her mouth on the peak of Sameen’s right breast.

As good as it felt, Sameen had little tolerance for verbal foreplay. “You’re _not_ going to use food analogies for everything are you?” Sameen instructed more than asked.

Root knew exactly what her girlfriend enjoyed more than verbal foreplay … physical, rip off your clothes, and smother your mouth with kisses, foreplay. And Root’s own personal twist – throwing Sameen off her guard. Root’s hands roamed Shaw’s upper body, disposing of clothes in the process. “You can... spank me ... if you want,” she whispered in Sameen’s ear and then covered her mouth quickly before Shaw could yell out her name. “OOOOT!” came the muffled name as Shaw tried to shake her head at how shameless her girlfriend was.

“No?” Root pouted when Sameen didn’t take her up on her offer. “Just the thought is working on me, darling,” she said and pushed Sameen down on the couch.

Root knew they were only seconds away from Sameen realizing she wasn’t in charge …and taking it back. She moved upward quickly, grabbing Root so she wouldn’t fall and flipping her over onto the couch, where she straddled Root’s longer body so that she couldn’t move.

As if Root was putting up a fight.

“No talking,” Shaw said as she devoured Root’s flesh in a series of squeezes and light bites that set Root on fire … and not quietly. For a very impatient woman herself, Sameen didn’t seem to mind making Root wait until she begged for the tender sweet release after working her body into a blissfully agitated state. Teeth nipped, and fingers touched and pushed until they glided into place. Then, Shaw combined this with precision of her tongue, sending Root screaming over the edge.

Root lay panting, her body moist from the frenzy. “Oh, God, Sweetie, that was …,” she tried to say, but her breath was too ragged for full sentences.

“Yes, I know,” said the ever confident Sameen. She pushed up alongside Root on the couch and pulled a blanket up over them.

“That was so ….,” Root tried to explain how the explosion ripped through her body.

“Yes, I know,” Sameen said, having deduced how good it was from the trembling of Root’s entire frame.

“Do you know _everything_?” Root teased, pulling playfully on Shaw’s ponytail.

“I know I want steak,” Sameen said, because she was hungry.


	38. Laws of Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your posts/thoughts. I do appreciate them.

Root was a woman of her word and so after the couple dressed; she took Sameen out to one of the best steak houses in Manhattan. They sat in a round booth close together and ordered drinks.

“So, what did you and the great wizard, Azar, find out today?” Sameen asked, drinking straight bourbon. The liquid fire descended down her throat, but was very smooth.

“Well, interestingly enough,” Root said, sipping her white wine, “… it seems the machine has managed to make a conglomeration of her daily inputs and creates a history of sorts, so that she can then refer back to them. So, knowing Azar went for tests meant she could access those records. Knowing Azar needed the best doctor, meant she found him and had all her records sent.”

“So, _it_ took charge of things?” Sameen asked.

“ _She_ ,” Root gently corrected her. “And, yes.”

“So, is that good or dangerous?” Shaw asked, downing her drink because they were talking about her mother and her machine; two very aggravating subjects for Sameen.

Root was sitting to Sameen’s left in the booth and her foot slipped out of her shoe and touched Sameen’s leg. “Well,” she said and Sameen jumped at the touch.

Shaw squinted her eyes and said ..”Okay, okay,” because she remembered that just because they were in public, did not mean Root would behave.

“See, the thing is, in order to stop the machine from doing that, we came up with only one solution,” Root said and Shaw wondered how she managed to keep her train of thought when she could not keep her hands to herself. Her right hand had gently pushed up under Sameen’s short black dress that hugged her body so well; Root’s eyes were glazing over.

“Earth to Root,” Sameen said, smiling at the goosebumps she felt, but wanting to keep a sense of decorum at the table.

“God, I love the feel of your bare skin,” Root gushed as she leaned in a little more.

“Yes, thank you, I feel the same,” Shaw said, looking around to make sure no one was watching them.

As quickly as Root had started the seductive moves, she sat back quickly. “It’s amazing I can get anything else done besides think of you. It’s true,” she confirmed as she took a piece of bread and bit into it. “Let’s go away where you can be naked on a beach all week.”

“I’m naked? What about you?” Sameen laughed.

“I burn too easily. But you …,” Root said and just thinking about it made her put her hand back on Sameen’s knee.

Sameen shook her head. She knew they had been talking about something, but Root’s ministrations were so distracting, she couldn’t remember what. “What … ?” she frowned, trying to recall.

Root had no problem picking up where she left off. “So, what Azar suggested, and this was really hard for her, was that one possible solution is to delete all the machine’s files every night and have her start anew the next day.”

“Why am I _not_ surprised that Azar just thinks you can just wipe the slate clean and start all over,” Shaw commented, projecting her own feelings, and using her hand to motion the movement.

“Well, actually …,” Root said slowly. “You can.”

“What?” Shaw said, still caught up in criticizing her mother.

“You can wipe it clean. You can write a program that wipes the files clean every night. Then, the next day, she starts all over again, unable to recognize what she’s done before.” Root didn’t mind explaining any of this as she drank her wine.

“So, yeah, you can clear its memory,” Sameen thought through as the waiter asked if they were ready to order. “I want the biggest steak you have,” she said and he hesitated a second because it was almost as big as she was. But Root gave him a look that made it clear he was to give her whatever she wanted.

“Salmon,” Root said and closed the menu.

“I usually don’t trust people who eat fish,” Sameen teased. “You know, go cow or go home.”

“I’m glad you’ve made an exception in my case,” Root replied.

One of the reasons Root picked this place was because, in spite of its size, the restaurant was usually quiet. It would give her the chance to sit back and just stare at the love of her life; something she really enjoyed doing. Even when Sameen took a big bite of the steak and moaned at how delicious it was, Root sat there motionless, drinking it all in.

“This steak is almost as good as …,” Sameen said, wanting to pay it the highest compliment she could think of. But the expression on Root’s face clearly indicated that was a statement she would be willing to challenge … over and over again. “It’s good.”

Minutes and several bites later, Shaw came back to the question. “So, what are you and Azar going to do?”

“Well, I think she has some concerns about draining the system every night,” Root explained. “It’s like having to delete your iPhone pictures, messages, emails; every night. And then start again tomorrow like it’s been reset to factory settings.”

“Yeah, but my phone isn’t messing with my calendar and sending me out on wild goose chases,” Sameen pointed out.

“True,” Root said, wishing they could think of something else.

“What’s the hesitation?” Shaw asked astutely as coffee was brought to the table.

“Well, imagine that phone held your history, your _connections with someone,_ if you will,” Root said softly because she was cautiously hoping Sameen would connect the dots.

The combination of bourbon and steak, enough to kill a horse was slowing her down. “Wouldn’t I have made a backup of my phone?” she asked, and perhaps she wasn’t slowing down at all.

“Oh my God, Sameen,” Root said because it was something the two tech geniuses hadn’t thought of. “You are so right.”

Shaw smiled, pleased at whatever it was she had just done to impress Root. “Of course, I am.”

“I’ll contact Azar tomorrow and we’ll see if we can work on a restricted retrieval system,” Root said, almost excited as Sameen had been over her steak. “Her treatments start next week,” she added.

“I know,” Shaw said, because she was keeping tabs on her mother.

“She wants to stay at the hotel with your sister,” Root said, the wine making her less cautious about using familial terms.

“Yeah,” Shaw replied, her way of saying she had enough on this topic.

“I’m glad we’re together,” Root said, sliding closer to Sameen and trying to get the focus back on them.

“Me, too,” Shaw smiled back.

* * *

The back of the booths was high in height, to give the patrons their privacy. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear the sounds coming from the tables. There was a great deal of laughter and talking coming from the booth behind Sameen and Root, but they hardly noticed. Until the other couple was visited by an unwelcomed third party. At first, words could not be made out, but the sternness of the voice was unmistakable.

“Sounds like one of their mothers just showed up,” Sameen laughed as Root snuggled closer and started to play with the stray lock of hair on Sameen’s face.

Just a few feet away, someone had completely distracted the couple who was out for a nice dinner. “I really don’t know how to feel about this,” she announced as she sat down in the booth next to her coworker.

“Excuse me?” Martine said, looking around to see how Janine had suddenly appeared there.

“On one hand, you’re grown women with lives to live and you can do whatever you want,” Janine noted and waived the waiter over and ordered a strong martini.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Martine asked, but it was as if her friend was addressing an unseen audience.

“But we don’t really know how we feel about you,” Janine said, turning her gaze to Ayala. “And let’s be honest; we don’t trust you.”

“Okay, Janine, I think that’s about enough,” Martine said in a low voice and was about to suggest she leave, when the waiter appeared with her drink.

“Of course, this is none of my business and I wouldn’t even be here,” she said after she gulped the drink down.

“You’re right about that,” Ayala noted, annoyed at her presence. She was just feeling like Martine was relaxing enough to enjoy herself.

“And yet,” Janine thought out loud, “…. You work with her and you …. Well, you just aggravate the life out of her.”

“Okay, Janine, I think you made your point. Now, why not discuss this with your boss and leave us out of it?” Martine said and tried to indicate to Janine she should leave, but she was signally the waiter for a refill. The strong elixir was really helping her thoughts come together.

“You’re right!” she snapped her fingers to Martine. “We should ask Shaw what she thinks. I mean, you two can’t be together if it upsets her,” the administrative assistant extraordinaire decreed.

“I really doubt Shaw’s going to care that I’m out to dinner with …,” Martine started, but Janine interjected.

“Sister; you’re out to dinner with her sister. Technically, half-sister, but I’m not sure we’re even supposed to call her that until it’s sanctioned by Shaw.”

“Did … you …just …say sanctioned?” Ayala asked because she felt as if she were being spoken to by a member of the Royal Consort.

Martine smiled and shook her head as if pleading with the Israeli Defense Forces trained woman to forgive the intruder. “Okay, Janine, I’m sure Shaw will straighten this all out for you. Why not take it up with her tomorrow?”

“Or we could take care of it now,” Ayala offered because she simply didn’t understand this woman’s deep devotion to Sameen.

But Janine knew a threat when she heard one. And it was only because she had decided that Sameen’s honor was at stake that made her brazen. Much to Martine’s surprise, she leaned over towards Ayala and through gritted teeth replied; “You and what army?” Martine had never seen the woman like this and was concerned of what she might do.

“Okay, okay, Janine,” she said, gently pulling the woman back to sit down. “I think we can talk about this more tomorrow. Let’s get you home,” she offered because she was afraid of letting the woman loose on the City.

And if Janine had listened to Martine, the impromptu gathering would have ended there. “Let me tell you something,” Janine decided to inform Ayala – again, probably feeling braver with her good friend, Martine by her side. “I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR SAMEEN SHAW!” she declared, loud enough for all the patrons to hear.

Including the woman who had just choked on her coffee in the next booth. “What the hell?” Sameen asked as she and Root exited the booth to see what was going on.

As if appearing when she needed her most, Janine looked up to see Shaw standing there; a goddess -like vision in a tight black dress.

Ayala watched and then said to Martine; “I swear she just bowed!”

Martine wasn’t surprised.

“Oh my God! Sameen!” Janine said, but she added few extra e’s in her name which unnerved Shaw.

“What?” summed up everything Shaw was questioning. It took her a second to realize that next to Janine was Martine ….and then a third person. It took a full minute for her to see who that was. “What the hell?” was the elongated question, now that she had more information.

“Ladies,” Root said, standing to Shaw’s side and holding her hand. In case.

“Oh, Sameen, I wanted to ask you what you thought … about this?” Janine said, looking up at Sameen with puppy dog eyes. Even Bear didn’t look at her like that.

“I think …,” Sameen said, trying to put these pieces together of a puzzle she wanted nothing to do with, “…it’s time to take you home.” With that, Shaw grabbed her assistant by the arm and smiled an uncomfortable smile at the two women. It was the look you give someone when your dog escapes their pen and digs up their garden.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Martine said, her good time ruined by the obsessed woman.

Sameen smiled her goodbye as she practically held the woman up as she and Root walked her out of the restaurant.

“How did she even find you?” Ayala wondered out loud.

“I don’t know,” Martine admitted.

Seconds later, as she mumbled how she did not want to do this, but the nagging thought would not leave her alone, Shaw reappeared at the table. “I’m sorry,” she said and they thought she meant for her devotee’s appearance. She was chastising herself for giving into the need to ask …, “If you’re here and obviously you are,” Shaw pointed out, “…who is with Azar?”

At first, Ayala thought she was being questioned by an older sibling about being out late on a school night. But when she listened, she heard the concern in Sameen’s voice. Under the .. ‘ _I can’t believe I’m asking this_ ’ annoyance.

“She’s okay. She texted me before and said she was resting,” the younger woman shared.

“Okay,” Shaw said as if she had just been briefed. “Okay, good. Thanks.”

And with that, Sameen rejoined Root.  “I think we should bring her home,” Root said of the inebriated woman.

“Oh, Root,” Shaw groaned as if her girlfriend had just suggested they feed the stray dog. 

Root thought it was the safer thing to do, but it also got them home faster.  So, she convinced Shaw they should bring her back and put her in one of the guest rooms.  Against her better judgement, Sameen gave into Root and agreed.  She helped the woman into the apartment and upstairs to the bedroom down the hall. 

Janine thanked them and fell onto a bed that she was certain was made out of the softest clouds.  “Thanks, Sameen,” she said.  “You know, I’m not a drinker,” Janine felt it necessary to share as she curled up in bed. 

“I’d never know it,” Shaw responded as she pulled the blankets up over her. 

Root watched how Shaw’s face softened as she made sure the woman was safely in bed. 

Unlike everyone else that night, Root found it so easy to understand Janine’s devotion. 

 


	39. Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can never thank the POI writers enough for all the great lines that I try to weave a chapter around.  
> I obviously had to tweak these because ... well, you'll see.  
> Many thanks for reading along.

Janine made a good recovery and by the next morning, she was able to recall every excruciating detail of her escapade. “What was I thinking?” the more rational woman asked herself as she sat up and looked around. “What a way to impress my boss,” she lamented and only then did she notice the dark brown eyes staring back at her, empathically. “Oh, Bear, I am so embarrassed,” she confessed and he put his head in her lap.

‘ _God, humans are needy_ ,’ he thought.

* * *

Shaw had completed her workout in the private gym Root had created for her in the Penthouse. There was every piece of equipment one could want – with a comfortable bench where Root could sit and encourage her girlfriend. And watch. “I need to work off that steak,” Sameen decided and Root reminded her that she did her best to help her do just that after putting her assistant to bed.

Now, Sameen and Root sat at the island in the kitchen. Root sipped her tea while Sameen devoured her second stack of pancakes.

“You’re going to have to console her this morning,” Root said, insightfully.

“For what?” asked Shaw, her mouth full of pancakes and genuinely confused.

“She’s going to feel foolish when she wakes up,” Root pointed out.

“Yeah, well, she should. I mean, really Root; she screamed my name out,” Shaw pointed out as she bit off the end of the sausage that dangled on her fork. “Gotta make wise choices,” she said as she ate another sausage link.

“Isabelle, do you think we should have a nutritionist come in and approve our breakfast choices?” Root asked the chef, who had no idea what she was talking about. She loved to cook; Sameen loved to eat. It was the perfect relationship.

Shaw stared hard at Root. “Not cool,” she said because even she knew her food choices wouldn’t pass the most liberal allowances for cholesterol and fat. “Not cool.” She didn’t like the way Root could make a very good point by linking someone’s poor behavior to her poor food selections.

Just then, the kitchen door opened slowly and Janine poked her head in. “I was going … to leave,” she announced and thanked her hostesses. “So, thank you.”

“Sure,” Shaw said, smiling.

Root sipped her tea and gave Sameen a knowing look over the cup.

“What?” Shaw asked and really didn’t have to.

“ _You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed_ ,” Root quoted aesthetically as she placed the tea cup down gently.

“ _The Little Prince_? You’re going to quote from _The Little Prince t_ o me?” Shaw barked.

But she said that as she slid off the stool and went out into the hallway. “Tamed! Pfft! I never tamed anything in my life,” Shaw grumbled and then saw Janine waiting for the elevator.

* * *

“Hey!” she called out and Janine immediately turned around. The adoring look that had been in her eyes last night was now replaced by one of sheer humiliation.

“I .. I …,” Janine started and her voice cracked from the tears welling up.

‘ _Oh not tears, not tears_!’ Sameen thought to herself. “Root’s … here,” she said to Janine, but it was really a command for her more sympathetic girlfriend to appear.

“I should apologize to you both for the awful way I behaved last night,” Janine finally said, standing straight and sticking her chin out as if she were waiting for Shaw to hit her.

“It’s okay,” Shaw assured her because she could see this was going to spiral into something she didn’t know how to deal with.

“No!” Janine said and Shaw pulled back. “I was rude and overstepped my boundaries.”

“Well, that’s actually something you’re very good at …,” Sameen was retorting because that’s what she did, but she was cut off.

“If Ms. Groves wants to fire me, I will completely understand,” she said, standing there like the proverbial smack was about to happen.

“No, Root … ,” Shaw said looking back at the kitchen door wishing like hell she would come out. “We should ask her. ROOT!”

Root sauntered in as if she had no idea that Shaw was sinking in emotional quicksand. “Hi, Janine!”

“Root,” Shaw said slowly, giving her the raised eyebrow look telling her she was passing her the emo-baton. “Janine is concerned …that …you would want to fire her.”

Root smiled and looked at Shaw and then at the nervous assistant. Shaw turned back to her devotee about to say goodbye so she could leave Root alone with her when she heard Root verbally hand back the baton by saying … “Oh, Sweetie, that’s totally up to you.”

“There!” Shaw said before the words actually sunk in. “Wait, what?”

Root stood there for a second. “Well, in spite of her good intentions, she did overstep a boundary and from what I saw last night, her actions really irked you. She was not following any protocol that I am aware of at BEAR, so my guess is that she was acting on her own volition.”

“I’ll go and clean out my desk,” Janine wailed as Shaw turned to Root.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as the woman stepped into the elevator and left, in spite of Shaw’s clear instructions not to.

Root smiled, her head swaying back and forth for a second. “Sweetie, she’s yours. I don’t know how else to put this, but the woman is totally enamored with you. I truly think if we fired her, she’d lose her mind. But that said, I also don’t want anyone upsetting you. So, I think you need to decide if you want her to stay.”

“That’s it? That’s your pearls of wisdom? What happen to taming what I …. owning what I tame ….Oh, whatever the hell it is!”

“Being responsible for what you tame,” Root unscrambled her words. “And yes, I think you are, but Janine came preprogramed with a Shaw app and I’m not sure she can tone it down.”

Shaw stared at Root, annoyed because she seemed to be very calm about all of this. “So-what-do-I-do?”

“Well, first, decide if you want to fire her or keep her. Then, if it’s fire her, I’ll call HR. If you want to keep her…,” Root said, and Shaw was twisting her finger in a circle to speed up the answer. “You have to go after her and tell her she’s not fired.”

“I have to?” Shaw yelled. “You were the one … she heard you … oh, never mind!” she said, throwing her hands up in the air and going to the elevator.

“Wait, I’m coming,” Root said as she joined her on the elevator. “Now, there’s something I said a few times last night,” she cooed, playing with Sameen’s hair.

Shaw kept looking straight ahead, unwilling to give Root any acknowledgment of her clever entendre.

For her part, Root just stared her girlfriend up and down as the elevator descended slowly, in spite of the number of times Shaw pressed the lobby button.

“Schrödinger says the universe isn’t made up of physical matter, just shapes. I thought that might make you feel better,” Root said … and really meant it.

“Seriously?” Shaw said, staring at Root.

“You know … a shape … (looks down) … nothing firm. What it means is that the real world is essentially a simulation anyway,” Root explained her erudite thoughts.

“How is this helping? You are the last person I should confide in when I don’t know what to do,” Shaw asked because Root seemed to be on a different page … in a different book … in another library …clear across town.

“I like that idea. That even if we’re not real, we represent a dynamic. A tiny finger tracing a line in the infinite … shape. And then we’re gone,” Root explained because she could see the bigger picture. Root always saw the bigger picture.

“That’s supposed to make me feel better? I’m a shape?” Shaw asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, and darlin’ … you got a great shape,” Root all but sang.

Shaw scoffed, but her expression softened. “I swear to God, you flirt at the most awkward times,” she said, as the doors opened.

“I know,” Root smiled and put her arm around Sameen’s. “All I’m saying is that… if we’re just information … just noise in the system, it might as well be a symphony.”

Shaw stared at Root whose face light up with the latest thought, as if it made perfect sense. “Sure,” she said because it sounded good in theory.

* * *

When they arrived at BEAR, Shaw wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. “Can’t you …just …,” she said, throwing her hands out. “Please?” Shaw tried, turning on the innocent look, with puppy dog eyes.

“Cute,” Root said and Sameen swore she was wavering. “But we both know it has to come from you because she really won’t listen to anyone else,” Root reasoned.

“But I’m not good with emotional people …. Or emotions … or people …,” Shaw countered, but Root just didn’t believe any of that was true.

“I will support any decision you make,” Root countered Samee’s counter.

“Fine!” Shaw said, unhappy that she was being given this task. “And for your information,” she said before getting off on her floor. “… I don’t understand shapes.” She was hoping it would perturb Root as much as she felt perturbed, but as Sameen was slowly learning, that rarely happened.

Root felt one of her missions was to help Shaw see in herself what she saw; to recognize her potential in all things. One of Root’s gifts was the inordinate amount of patience that was going to take. She pulled Sameen back onto the elevator to impart her wisdom.

“You always thought there was something wrong with you because you don’t feel things the way other people do. But I know that’s what makes you beautiful. I told you, in my eyes, your shape? … is a straight line; an arrow,” Root said with such feeling, it was hard for Sameen to look away.

“An arrow?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Root affirmed and kissed her before releasing the elevator door as Sameen left.

Shaw stood there motionless as she tried to figure out what that all meant. She knew if Root said it, it meant something and she wanted her to understand. “I’m not sure I understand that,” Sameen yelled to the closed door elevator and then looked around to make sure no one saw her.

Of course, everyone did.

* * *

“Shaw?” Martine poked her head up and called out. “Hey, about last night,” Martine said, coming up behind Sameen.

“Get in line, Rousseau,” Shaw said and meant she had enough issues to deal with.

“It was just dinner,” Martine explained because she felt she needed to.

“None of my business, really,” Shaw said as she walked towards her assistant’s cubicle, Martine at her heels.

“I figured you didn’t care, but Janine was so adamant,” Martine explained because she could think of little else after she left Ayala last night.

“Where is she?” Shaw asked when she saw there was no one in Janine’s area.

“Janine? She went to the storage room to get boxes for something,” Martine explained.

“You know you’re all crazy, right? That this isn’t news? And that each and every one of you should be made to go ….,” Shaw said with all her heart.

“Should be what?” Martine said, not sure if she should be insulted or not.

A smiled slowly came across Shaw’s face as the light bulb went off. “This has been backwards this whole time! I knew it!” Shaw declared as the dots connected in her head.

She may have been an arrow, but her thought pattern was definitely askew.

Then, the expression on Martine’s face changed as she caught sight of the cubicle’s occupant coming down the hallway, boxes in her arm. Her red eyes and red nose were like beacons, arriving before she did.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Martine asked seriously.

“What did I do? What did I ….ugh,” Shaw said frustrated. “How is it that every freaking aggravating road … leads to me?”

“It’s a blessing and a curse, I guess,” Martine theorized about being the object of people’s affection.

Janine entered her area, not really surprised to see the women there. “I guess you’re here to give me my termination papers,” she said and put the boxes down.

“Holy shit, Shaw, you terminated her?” Martine yelled.

Before Shaw could even explain how wrong Martine was, Janine was busy defending Sameen because it wasn’t her fault. “I overstepped my place last night,” Janine explained.

“Oh, come on, Shaw!” Martine bellowed. “The woman would do anything for you and this is how you repay her?”

“You are like a migraine with a mouth,” Shaw said to Martine. “Now, if both of you would listen…,” she suggested, but Martine was too upset and Janine was crying all over again.

So, Sameen did what she did best when trying to get people to shut up. She pulled out her gun. “The next person who talks or who cries, gets shot.”

What Sameen had realized and was anxious to share with them was that they were both crazy and each of them should go see Iris. In fact, she was so sure of it, she considered taking Janine there herself. Let Iris fix her, is what Sameen thought.

And as luck would have it, Sameen wasn’t even going to have to go get Iris.

She was right there, staring in horror at Sameen holding a gun and threatening her coworkers.


	40. Notes

As often was the case, Sameen believed Iris would understand why she had to use aggressive behavior to get things under control. Anyone in their right mind would, Shaw was certain. “Oh, good!” she said when she saw Iris, thinking the therapist’s timing was impeccable.

“Sameen?” Iris asked, looking at how upset Janine was. “Everything okay here?”

“Are you kidding me?” Shaw answered. “Is it _ever_ okay here? No, it’s _not_ okay here!”

Iris' training told her that she needed to get Sameen away from anyone who was upsetting her, and help her calm down. “Can we talk?”

Sameen felt that Iris should have been looking at Janine or Martine when she said that and it took a full second for her to realize she was only looking at her. She put a finger to her own chest and asked, “Me?” genuinely confused.

“If you … can,” Iris smiled.

Sameen had to think about this. She really didn’t want to waste any more of her time on this, but perhaps it was a good idea to get a sense of what was going on … from the _sanest_ person in the room. “Okay, sure,” she said and shoved her gun back in the pants. “Don’t go anywhere,” she barked at her coworkers. Then, she followed Iris down the hallway.

“Want to get breakfast?” Martine asked Janine.

“But Sameen said … not to .. go anywhere,” the assistant pointed out.

“Did you see the look on Doc’s face? Shaw’s gonna be gone at least an hour,” Martine pointed out. “Come on, we’ll talk about how you can’t quit.”

“Oh, okay,” Janine said, feeling like she could use a cup of coffee.

* * *

Sameen waited until she was inside Iris’ office before she thanked her for coming. Which, to say the least, confused the therapist. “I mean … for seeing ...the obvious need,” Sameen said.

“Sameen, I was concerned because … you seemed …please, sit,” she interrupted herself and hoped her favorite client would not storm out when she said; “….upset.”

“Upset? Do you have any idea how crazy those people are?” Sameen asked sincerely. And she meant – “Come on, doc, you have a PhD in this stuff!’

“I would like it very much if you told me,” Iris said and Sameen took this to mean, Iris wanted to consult with her.

“Fine,” Sameen said, rolling her eyes and sitting down. “If I were to tell you the last twenty-four hours I’ve had, you wouldn’t believe it. Do I care who is dating my sister? I just wanted a peaceful dinner, with Root, and steak; that was as close to sex as you can get,” she blurted out and then looked up.

“I see,” Iris said, not yet getting her pad. “What happened at dinner?”

“Nothing at dinner. Until Janine called out my name because she came upon Martine and my sister having dinner behind us. I tried to intervene, but the woman was a little drunk and couldn’t be stopped. Root felt it was our BEAR duty to take her home. Do you know how hard I worked to get that dinner?”

“No, can you tell me?” Iris said and slowly reached for her pad.

“I did your entire list. Well, not entirely because I don’t think my mother is a xenophobe and I couldn’t think of any other words that started with 'x' to describe her,” Shaw huffed.

“I would very much like to see it,” Iris said, pleased that Sameen actually did it.

“My mother saw it,” Sameen said, pushing her hand in her pocket and pulling it out.

“You have it on you,” Iris noted, not asking.

“I ..yeah, I was going to drop it off,” Sameen said.

“These words were the ones that came to you when you thought about your mother?” Iris double-checked.

“Yes, and don’t go all goo-goo over K and L, okay because … well, just don’t,” Shaw requested. “It’s not like there’s a lot of words that start … with K.”

“Okay, I promise not to,” she said looking down the list. “I think they reflect your mixed feelings.”

“You think?” Sameen asked and then looked apologetically at her. “It was very hard,” Shaw said, and wanted Iris to write that down. “You … should write that down,” she waved her finger and actually caught Iris smiling.

“How do you feel about having done the list?” Iris asked, fascinated by the words it contained. A first year psychology major could see how complicated their relationship was.

“I felt a whole lot better after the steak,” Sameen smiled because she thought that was a funny answer. She found most of her jokes never hit the mark as she wished with the therapist. “Can we get back to the reason we’re here?” and by that she meant … the crazy women down the hall.

“Tell me what was going on for you before?” Iris asked, doing as Sameen wished … sort of.

“Well, we took Janine home; she got up and was leaving. I thought Root should handle it, but she left it up to me. Janine thought I fired her, so I had to run after her. Root and I were in the elevator ….,” she drifted off. She was thinking back to what Root said to her in the elevator. “She thinks … I’m straight,” she said.

Iris frowned at the incomplete thought. Following Sameen took every ounce of her concentration skills. Was this the reason she was waving the gun. “Janine?” she asked. She couldn’t help the incredulous tone in her voice.

“No,” Shaw frowned. “Root.” And her tone was laced with a begging request for Iris to keep up.

“Root … thinks you’re … straight?” the therapist queried.

“Yes,” Sameen said and her expression softened, as it did whenever she talked about Root.

“And … how are you feeling about that?” Iris wondered.

Shaw looked at her therapist. “Ooh…I get it. No,” she smiled, “… she thinks I’m an arrow. It has to do with Schrödinger and shapes and simulations. Sometimes, I have no idea what she’s talking about, but she always says it with such conviction that it sounds believable,” Shaw explained and Iris understood she was getting a glimpse into just how much Sameen admired Root.

“So, you’re an arrow,” Iris repeated and didn’t want to say that she could completely understand that analogy.

“Yeah,” Sameen smiled because she liked the idea of being something that was to the point. Literally. Then she smiled at her therapist. “You can write that down if you want.”

“Noted,” Iris smiled and drew an arrow.

“Anyway, enough about me, let’s talk about the insane people who work here,” Shaw said, drawing a deep breath and running her hands along her thighs. She really had better things to do.

“Okay, but I want to hear why you felt drawing your weapon was the way to handle them,” Iris asked.

“Because I find that it gets people’s attention,” Shaw answered honestly. “And Janine was losing it; so _drastic_ people … call for _drastic_ measures.”

“Why was she …,” Iris attempted to ask, but Sameen wanted to wrap this up.

“Look, she’s the one who should really be in her on the couch, and I don’t want to take up your time, so let’s just say she’s ….what’s the clinical word?” the former doctor thought, “…obsessed with … me.”

“Her devotion is quite noticeable,” Iris responded.

“She thought I fired her; which I did not, and she was leaving and then Martine thought I was upset because she had dinner with my sister and the two of them were losing it,” Sameen summed up. “So, take your choice, but if you ask me, they both could do with a little time in here.” She waved her hand to indicate on the couch.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve referred to Ayala … as your sister,” Iris said, because she wanted to stay on the person in front of her. She’d get to the others Sameen was volunteering later.

“Yeah,” Sameen said, not happy that Iris caught that. “Half … sounds … odd,” she admitted.

“Sameen,” Iris said slowly, putting the pen down. “Tell me about kind and loving.”

Shaw’s head shot up. _No, no, no,_ she wanted to yell. _You’re on the wrong track_! She wanted to scream. She liked Iris, even though she didn’t want to admit it, and she was willing to help her do her job better, but she had to focus better. “No!” Shaw said and Iris thought this was where Shaw would walk out. “Let me tell you about … _worried_ ,” she countered because she couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that her mother really was concerned for her all those years.

“Tell me about worried,” Iris said calmly.

“She … Azar … said that she worried … all those years,” Sameen shared. “She heard me reading the words, I think, and when I got stuck on ‘w’, she volunteered that word.”

“Do you believe her?” the therapist asked directly.

Sameen stared at her feeling like she was too far down the road now to convince Iris to backtrack to Janine. But she had to think about that question. She pushed back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” she finally decided. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“How does that make you feel?” Iris asked in a soft voice because she understood she and her patient were walking on an emotional mine field.

Sameen’s face hardened as she frowned and pursed her lips. “Like shit.”


	41. Object of Desire

Sameen reached out unconsciously and grabbed a pillow that adorned Iris’ couch in the corner. She held it to her chest as she continued to talk. “I guess it’s reasonable that she worried. Hell, if I left me and then watched me grow up and knew what kind of person I had become; I’d be afraid, too.”

That registered a small smile on Iris’ face and pleased Sameen.

“How did she watch you all those years?” Iris asked, curious how the woman meant it.

“Do you see my word for “V”?” Sameen asked and Iris nodded because she remembered the word; _voyeur_. “She was CIA; she found ways,” she said, without saying it was by spying through the City’s camera’s, etc. “She’s very resourceful.”

“Does it help you to know that your mother was with you in some way all those years?” Iris asked and received a definite and sharp negative response.

“I can’t imagine anyone … or anything … keeping me from Root. It just wouldn’t happen,” Sameen said.

In a rare occurrence, Iris played Devil’s Advocate. “Suppose your return somehow endangered Root’s life?”

Even though the question annoyed Sameen to her core, it was the perfect inquiry to get her back behind her wall. Iris would regret that. “If anything endangers Root’s life, I would take care of it. Nothing gets near her.” Realizing she was holding onto to something, Sameen threw the pillow back in place.

“Yes, I know,” Iris said, aware that Sameen was trying to shut down because she felt Iris forgot how strong she was. “Of that I have no doubt.”

There was dead silence as Shaw tried to recover her armor and Iris wondered if she had pushed her too far. She needed something to ease Sameen back. “Tell me why you think Root called you an arrow?”

It worked. Mentioning Root was like salve to a wound with Shaw. Her entire body eased and she smiled again. “She will say things … at the oddest times,” Sameen recalled. “I’m not sure, maybe because I am honest with her and tell her everything, I don’t know.”

And then … Sameen shared something that made Iris know in her heart, her faith in this woman was right all along.

“Root’s … my safe place,” Sameen said in the softest voice Iris had ever heard her use.

Had the therapist not been as good at her job as she was, she might have allowed the tears that welled up somewhere inside her to show. But that would have been the last thing Sameen wanted – to see her therapist cry.

Sameen knew what she was doing and was aware of how impressed Iris was, even if she didn’t say it. She was trained as a physician and a soldier, and knew very well how to read people. “You didn’t write that down,” she laughed softly as she sat back, tired from the emotional divulging.

“I don’t think I have to,” Iris smiled, and wanted to share that she would never forget what Sameen had just said.

“Well,” Shaw said, remembering what brought her there in the first place. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your … whatever you do here, but there are two women who are in desperate need of … whatever you do here.”

But Iris wasn’t going to focus on anyone except the woman who just took a giant emotional leap forward. Of course, this would only confirm to Sameen just how stubborn the woman could be in her own way.

“Thank you for showing me the list,” she said.

“We’re not going to do homework _every_ _week_ are we?” Shaw asked, and Iris’ heart pounded at the time frame Shaw revealed.

“Not every week,” Iris smiled.

Then, quiet hung in the air as Sameen tried to decide if she wanted to say anything else. Sometimes, she was just as surprised as she thought Iris was with what came out of her mouth.

“Well, I’m glad we … could …talk,” Sameen said and wanted to say … _’about Janine and Martine_ , but she noticed Iris hardly mentioned them. “So, you might want to check them out,” she continued as she stood up and shoved her hands in her back pockets. “Not that crazy people running around here isn’t the norm, but they seem particularly hyper today.”

“Thank you,” Iris said and Shaw wasn’t sure if she meant for alerting her to the crazy people or for coming in.

“Sure,” Shaw said and walked towards the door. She stopped and turned on her heel quickly and stuck out her hand to Iris. “Thank you,” she said, shaking the woman’s hand because she wasn’t sure how you thanked a therapist appropriately.

“It is my pleasure, Sameen,” Iris said warmly.

The psychologist stood in the doorway, smiling, as she watched Sameen leave. Just then, her cell rang and it was Lionel. She closed her door and took the call.

“And what kind of day are you having?” he asked in an upbeat voice.

“I’m actually having….,” she said slowly and thought about it, “…a _really_ good day.”

“Well, I was going to make it better by taking you to lunch,” he offered.

Iris thanked him and said what a great idea that was. But secretly, she knew he couldn’t improve on what had just happened.

* * *

“Damn!” Shaw said when she got back to her desk. She had forgotten to ask Iris about what Root had shared with her. She knew Root thought she was responsible for whatever she tamed, but she wanted a professional opinion because Janine came with a whole lot of baggage.

“Oh, you’re back!” Janine practically squealed and made her boss jump. “I had a long talk with Martine and she explained how I can’t possibly leave because who else could put up with you, although I don’t think she meant it in a negative way,” the woman blathered.

“No, of course not,” Sameen said sardonically. “So, we’re okay here? You’re not crazier than usual and you’re not going anywhere?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” Janine announced because Martine had done a good job convincing her Shaw couldn’t possible get along without her.

“Good, “ Shaw said, glad that was over. Janine said she would get Shaw’s messages and be right back. “You … don’t feel … by any chance,” Shaw asked, hesitatingly. “… _tamed_ , do you?”

“Tamed?” Janine asked, unsure of the context of the word.

“ _The Little Prince_? The fox? Never mind,” Shaw said, hoping this meant she didn’t have to watch over the woman for the rest of her life.

Janine left to get Shaw’s messages … and to order _The Little Prince_ from Amazon so she would have it in an hour.

* * *

Sameen couldn’t put into words why she was feeling good, but she was pretty sure Root had something to do with it. Root’s sharing that she had gone to Iris, helped Shaw feel like it wasn’t the weakest thing she could do. Calling her an Arrow, made her feel like her strengths were really what Root saw in her. So, she decided to pay Root a visit.

As soon as Sameen entered the office, Root stopped what she was doing. And it was important because she and Harold were in the middle of finding a solution. “Later, Harry,” is what she said as she smiled broadly upon seeing her girlfriend.

“I can come back,” Sameen said, but Root insisted she stay as they sat on the couch.

“So, how is everyone downstairs? Worn out by your animal magnetism?” Root asked, playing with the long strand of hair that fell on Sameen’s face.

“Yeah, they’re good. Still incredibly crazy, but calmer. I talked to the Doc about them,” Shaw said, updating the CEO.

“You did?” Root asked and kept smiling at Shaw. Just the sight of her, after not seeing her for …oh, what was it, ninety minutes? … made Root beam.

“Well, she wanted to see me after I pulled my gun on them. So, that might have had _something_ to do with it. I’m still not sure how that woman does it, but she gets you to talk about things,” Shaw said, half intrigued, half annoyed.

“Good,” Root said, because she understood how important it was. “Did you show her your list?” she asked, with the enthusiasm of a proud parent whose kid just entered the Science Fair. “It was so good.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said, not comfortable that the damn list came up. “So, anyway, I wanted to … thank you, for … encouraging me.”

“I believe in you, Sameen; I always have,” Root said sincerely.

“Okay, thanks and so, I was thinking …,” Sameen said, because she believed in showing one’s appreciation. “…. If you want to … do that … thing you like …later.”

Now, this was the epitome of Shaw reaching across the proverbial table and offering to partake in something she found ridiculous, but that Root found exciting. Of course, it also described a dozen things Root liked to do. But just the mere mention of it, made Root’s eyes gets wide with excitement.

“You mean …?” she asked, as she ran her finger down Sameen’s arm to her wrist. “This thing?” she clarified.

“Yes, _that_ thing,” Sameen said, uncomfortable with saying it in public. “If you …want.”

“I do! I do!” Root said, her mind already racing with what their evening would be like. “This will be …fun!”

“Okay, yeah,” Sameen said, trying not to sound like she regretted it already. ‘ _Bite the damn bullet and do it!_ ’ she told herself. “Good, then, I’ll see you later,” she said getting up from her seat, rolling her eyes at how Root said there, lost in a daze of her wicked imagination. “You know … I can break right out of them, right?” she said reminding her girlfriend what happened the other time she tried to use them on her.

“Mmm,” Root said, but it was a guttural sound, wrapped in syrup.

Shaw stared back as she exited the room, hoping Root could get back to whatever it was she was working on.

It would be hard, but she tried.

Root returned to her desk, where Harold was on the screen waiting since he’d been silenced. “Hold on, Harry,” Root said as she opened the line of communication and dialed her phone. “Detective, how good of you to take my call. I need a favor,” she said and Lionel said he was on his way to her office to take Iris to lunch. “Good, please stop here first. And Lionel? Let’s not mention this to anyone, okay?”

Then, she turned her attention back to Harold, who was frowning at what he just heard. “So, can we back up part of the machine’s memory?” she asked.

“Well, yes, I think we can segregate out the particular files you’re referring to,” Harold said.

“Good, that way we can give Azar back her memories and the machine will be free to go forward,” Root said.

“You know in essence, we’ll be destroying it every night,” Harold pointed out.

“I’m working on a program that might allow us to set parameters; so that the machine cannot initiate her own actions, without us at least being able to see it,” Root said.

Harold smiled. “You seem to call it the feminine,” he noted.

“Well, Harry, that’s because that’s what she is,” Root smiled.

“So, we’ll test it tomorrow?” Harold asked.

“Yes, but first we need to make sure Azar is okay with this. It is, after all, still her machine.”

Harold agreed and even said he had followed through on Root’s request of asking for a third person’s insight into the matter. They were both very cautious about who knew about the machine, but felt they could share it with a limited and carefully chosen few. “Oh, she’s here,” he smiled and said he would get back.

“Hello, Gen,” Harold greeted his charge.

He took his time explaining the dilemma of the machine acting on its own as the young protégé listened carefully. “These files? They’re memories of Sameen growing up?” she asked, astutely.

“Well, yes,” Harold said, thinking that was secondary to the technology issues they faced.

“They must be preserved,” Genrika said seriously.

“Yes, well, we think the backup system will accomplish that and then we can initiate a program that will limit its independence,” he explained.

“For how long?” Genrika asked?

Harold was taken aback by the question. “Well, for as long as we want,” he said.

The tween looked back carefully at the program. “Are you sure?”

Gen did what she could for Harold – she gave him plenty to think about just when he thought he had the answers. Leaving his office, she decided to say hi to Sameen.

* * *

Shaw had spent the better part of the morning catching up on new BEAR security protocols. It seemed Ayala had presented Martine with an offer she knew she couldn’t refuse and she had gone to John about it. “It makes sense,” John said of the offer, but he, too, worried about Sameen’s reaction. So, after the meeting, the two asked her to stay.

“Ayala has offered to tell us how they got through our security system,” John began.

“Three times,” Martine added.

“Great,” Shaw said, getting up from her seat.

“We were thinking of hiring her, as a consultant,” Reese laid out.

“Of course you were,” Sameen said, closing her eyes because there was no one eye roll that would do her response justice. “Do you want her to share my cubicle?”

“Are you kidding? Janine would never …oh, you were kidding,” Martine coughed.

“You know she’s got a job, right?” Shaw said and the Reese and Martine looked at each other because neither could say exactly what it was. “She’s got to take care of Azar. Period.”

“Oh, yeah, we talked about that,” Martine blurted out and then cleared her throat too many times.

“She’d work remotely … ,” John said. “Only coming in occasionally.”

“Fine,” Shaw said, because she worried, too, that they seemed to be able to get past the cameras and systems.

“I’ll let her know,” Martine said, almost a little too happy.

“Just remember,” Shaw said to the two coworkers. “You’re responsible for what you tame.” Her expression was all ‘ _HA_!’ … but Reese and Martine looked at each other very confused.  Shaw stared at them.  "Never mind!"

* * *

Sameen went back to her desk, wishing the world would go away … or at the very least, leave her alone. The exception, of course, was when Gen popped in to say hello.

“Hey, Shaw,” she said walking in and sitting down.

“Hi, kid. How are you?” Sameen asked the youngster.

“Good. Just helping Harold with some problems,” she answered and that made Shaw smile.

“If only you could,” she laughed thinking Harold’s issues were too numerous.

Then, they both heard an eruption of laughter as Janine sat glued to her new book. “ _Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them_.” “I LOVE THIS BOOK, SHAW!” she yelled and made Sameen shudder.

“You gave her _The Little Prince_ to read?” Gen asked pensively.

“No!” Shaw said, “Root ..said … I .. that she’s been tamed. I don’t know,” Shaw said, feeling like the more she talked about it, the more gossamer it got.

“Ohhh,” Gen said, able to piece it all together because she was simply that intuitive. “I get it.”

“You do?” Shaw said, and a part of her wanted to ask the kid to explain it to her.

“Yes,” Gen said and offered no further information. She had decided a long time ago, it was sometimes better for adults to ask for what they needed. Antoine de Saint- Exupery would have agreed.

“O…kay,” Shaw said, not wanting to openly admit she wasn’t entirely sure. “Good! Because she’s going to have questions when she’s done,” she said, jerking her head in Janine’s direction.

Gen thought about that. Yes, she certainly could explain the book to the woman for its spiritual, metaphorical, and psychological meanings. But that might only ruin it for her. “You’re going to want to be there when she gets to the end,” Gen said thoughtfully.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said, and hurried to the other woman’s desk, pulling the book from her hands. “Okay, enough reading for one day,” she tried and it was pathetic. “Let’s … did you have lunch?” Shaw asked, because if she was going to go from the frying pan to the fire, she wanted to at least do so on a full stomach.

“You want …to go to lunch … _with_ _me_?” Janine asked slowly.

“Yeah,” Shaw said and Gen poked her head up over the side of the cubicle. She could have predicted the dreamy look in Janine’s eyes at the request. Shaw looked at the youngster for help. “You wanna come, kid?”

“I think you’re going to need my help, Shaw,” Gen said, because she could tell Sameen had no idea what was truly going on.

* * *

Lionel made his way up to Root’s office before taking his girlfriend out to lunch. Root thanked him, pulling him into her office as if she didn’t want anyone to see.

“I have … a rather … a request,” she said, not wanting to define it.

“What cockamamie scheme did you think of now?” he asked because Root seemed so tentative.

“I need something that you have,” Root explained, biting her lip.

It took the cop a minute to think about that before he decided he knew what she was talking about. “Are you two… do you want to have …. Are you asking me to donate …,” Lionel asked and couldn’t complete a thought.

“DETECTIVE!” Root said and she wasn’t upset, she was actually thrilled he could see where their relationship was going.  "No."

“Oh, geez,” he said, sitting back in his seat and opening up his tie a little. “I was … I thought … never mind.”

“We’ll get back to you on that, Lionel,” Root promised. “What I wanted now …were your handcuffs.”

Lionel’s face got beet red that he was so off the mark that he coughed and fumbled to grab them, never even asking why or what for. “Sure,” he said and coughed his way out of the room, hoping he wouldn’t have to arrest anyone before he got back to the station.

Root smiled at how dear the man was and would tell Shaw what he said … someday.

But for now, she played with the shackles the man gave her and wondered the best way to apply pink faux fur to them.

“Let’s see you get out of these,” she whispered and laughed.


	42. Passions

Root had just finished decorating her new toy when something occurred to her; stopping her in mid-thought. She had this all wrong. The genius CEO was having a moment when she came to the conclusion, she’d missed the forest for the trees.

She stood up and decided she needed to see Sameen right away.

* * *

Sameen was just returning from lunch with her devoted assistant and Gen. Gen had enjoyed her burger and fries as she carefully watched the interaction between Janine and her boss. In turn, Sameen kept watching the young prodigy and hoping she would come to a favorable conclusion. And she did.

“She’s beyond tamed,” Gen said after the woman returned to her cubicle.

“Nooooo,” Shaw pleaded. “That’s impossible! I mean, I don’t even know how to do that!”

“Yes, that’s why it’s so effective,” Gen determined, as she tapped her chin.

“There’s got to be a reverse formula. Get the book and find one,” she instructed her young friend, but Gen told her it was not really reversible.

“You’d have to be mean and even then, I’m not sure it would work on her,” Gen said and shrugged her shoulders.

“Really?” Sameen said, annoyed that all these smart people around her seemed to be able to identify problems, but not offer solutions.

Instead, Gen offered her heartfelt condolences. “She’s got it bad,” she confirmed as she left.

* * *

Shaw fell into her seat, throwing her head back, wishing someone would tell her something good.

Root entered, and upon seeing her girlfriend with her head back, eyes closed, snuck over and gave her the sweetest upside down kiss. Were it not for the fact that Root’s perfume announced her before she planted that caress, Shaw may not have eased into it so easily. Root released her and came around to sit across from her.

“Well, that’s … nice,” Shaw said, licking her bottom lip and smiling.

“Well, I had to come see you,” Root said with urgency.

Sameen sat straight up at the sound of her tone. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Everything is …perfect,” Root beamed. “Now that I got it.” Root shook her head slightly and rolled her eyes as she chastised herself for not getting it sooner.

“You got … _it_?” Shaw repeated.

“Yes,” Root said and didn’t offer any more information.

“Am I supposed to know what … _it_ … is?” Shaw finally asked.

“You’re it, silly,” Root said and as usual, Sameen pursed her lips and nodded her head. Just because Root gave her more information, didn’t mean it made things any clearer.

“And you’ve got … me,” Sameen put together, but her expression plainly indicated she was lost.

Root whipped the pink fur covered handcuffs and held them out. Sameen was horrified. She jumped from her seat and grabbed them. “Root!” she yelled thinking any second her hound dog of an assistant would leap over the wall. Shaw shoved them into her pocket, not even realizing these were not the soft, pliable play ones.

“It’s okay, I’m giving them back,” Root declared and loved that her tough girlfriend found things like this embarrassing.

“Giving them back? What are you talking about?” Shaw said in a hushed voice.

“I finally got it, Sameen. The fact that you would do this … with me … for me … because I find it fun, even though you don’t? That’s what’s wonderful about us, Sameen. That’s what really makes me feel wonderful inside.”

“Okay….I’m glad we … okay, good,” Shaw said, still looking around. Then, she felt how stiff these were. “Where did you get these?

“Fusco,” Root said, gleeful that she had been so resourceful.

“You told Fusco that you needed his handcuffs?” Shaw said, thinking she would never live this down.

“He doesn’t know why I needed them,” Root laughed.

“Okay, well …give them back,” Sameen said, taking them out of her pocket and then realizing the alteration.

“I’ll take care of it,” Root saluted cheerfully and took them back. “I wasn’t going to use them without telling you, you know.”

“Telling me what, that they were real?” Sameen asked as if she wouldn’t have known the difference.

“Yes,” Root said.

“I know,” Shaw said and smiled at how crazy Root’s ideas could be.

“This is why … I love you,” Root said, and meant because Sameen was so accepting of her. Root pulled her in and kissed her again hard.

“Okay,” Shaw said, enjoying it, but still concerned about the obvious displays of affection. “I ..have...work … I think.”

“Then I will see you later,” Root smiled and said goodbye.

* * *

Just then, Lionel passed by on his way back from lunch with Iris. Although they had an enjoyable lunch, he felt as if she were day dreaming the entire time. He ran into Root as she was returning to her office. “Oh, I won’t be needing these after all, Detective,” she smiled and handed him back the cuffs.

“Geez, Cocoa Puffs, how about you not flash official NYPD issued equipment around,” he said grabbing them and shoving them in his pocket.

“You might want to …,” Root was attempting to point out, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Thanks,” he said nervously and got on the elevator.

“That’s gonna be one hell of an arrest,” Root smiled.

* * *

That evening, Martine gave Ayala the good news over their second dinner. She could have told her over the phone, but suggested they meet to celebrate the good news.

Azar was pleased that her daughter was finding her own way and making new friends. Now, she would hope she and Sameen would see fit to become friends as well. Sitting down at her computer in the hotel suite, a small dialogue box opened on the bottom of her screen.

‘ _Mother_?’ it read.

Azar let out a long sigh. “Yes,” she typed.  
“ _Are you well_?” it asked because it deduced from the medical reports her exact percentage of survival if she followed the protocol.

“I am,” she assured the machine.

That was the end of the inquiry.

* * *

Janine went home to read the rest of her book carefully. She highlighted quotes that she liked and finally came to the section in the book where the wise fox tells the Little Prince how he is responsible for him, because he has tamed him. It is a reference to how their friendship has connected them forever. “Oh my God,” Janine said upon reading it. “No wonder Shaw asked me about this!” She needed to speak to Martine right away. Her text said it was urgent and when Martine explained she was out to dinner, she begged the woman to see her.

“Well,” she said to Ayala, “… you might as well get used to this,” she said as she texted Janine where to come.

* * *

Back at the quiet Penthouse, Root sat on one end of the couch staring at Sameen who was sitting on the opposite end. “I don’t think I will ever get tired of looking at you,” Root shared, a goofy lovesick smile on her face.

“Good, because this is the only look I have,” Shaw admitted.

“It’s a beautiful look,” Root gushed.

“Are you … gonna sit there and compliment me all night?” Sameen asked.

“I think I will,” Root declared, finding it one of her favorite pastimes.

“Okay,” Shaw said, and moved up closer to Root so she could lie next to her. “I might as well be comfortable if you’re going to keep that up,” she said, taking Root’s hand and indicating she should massage her shoulder.

“It feels tense,” Root said after feeling the tight toned muscles.

“It’s tough business taming people,” Shaw smirked.

* * *

Across town, Janine rushed in and found her friend sitting at the table. “Oh good, you’re here,” she said and she meant Ayala. “You might as well here this, too.”

“What has you so worked up?” Martine asked.

“This!” she said showing Martine and Ayala the book. “I finally get it now.”

“What are you getting from _The Little Prince?_ ” Martine wondered.

“I’m finally getting what Shaw was trying to tell me! I’m so dense,” she said, hitting her head as the two women stared at her. “Don’t you see?”

“No, and I probably prefer not to,” Martine said, unable to follow her coworker’s train of thought.

“Shaw’s been trying to tell me all this time!” Janine lamented.

“Does she speak English or is this her only language?” Ayala asked quietly.

Janine looked at the couple as if she couldn’t believe how plain it was. Then, she read the section from the book with great feeling. She closed it and was getting annoyed that Martine hadn’t put it all together yet.

“I’ve … tamed Shaw!” Janine revealed, horrified that it happened without her knowing it.


	43. Questionable Logic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope two chapters isn't too much in one day. It's light.

Martine had hoped that her dear coworker would share her news and leave, but the woman waved the waiter over and ordered a drink, asking if they minded. “I just need to think this through,” she said and promised she’d leave after her drink.

“Janine,” Martine began slowly because she wanted to break the news that she couldn’t be more wrong, gently. But she wasn’t going to get the chance.

“I should have seen this coming,” Janine said, taking a long gulp of her martini. “The first time I met your sister, she took my clothes off.”

Ayala’s head jerked from the storyteller to Martine, her face frowning. “She ..took …?”

“Well, it was for her interview,” Janine elaborated. “But there were other people she could have undressed, but she chose me.”

“I think … it had more to do with size, don’t you think?” Martine tried to help her friend connect the dots; any dots.

“It was electric,” Janine said and Martine moaned that this was too much information.

Ayala pulled back in her seat, wondering if she would ever have to work with this woman because – it could be a deal breaker. “There’s no chance ….?” She asked Martine and waved her finger between her and Janine.

“No,” Martine assured her, able to read her concern. Then she tried again. “Look, Janine, I think maybe your wires are crossed on this issue.”

“Yes!” Janine agreed. “I thought all along Shaw was having some strange effect on me,” she concurred. “Your sister is very charismatic,” she said to Ayala who wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this.

“I guess I missed that,” she said instead.

“Oh, Martine!” Janine said, getting yet another brainstorm that could prove disastrous. “If Ayala is working at BEAR, she and Shaw will no doubt become friends!”

“Stop helping me, please,” Martine said in a soft voice because she wasn’t sure how Ayala would take that.

“Do we have any idea what she’s talking about?” Ayala asked.

“Haven’t you read this book?” Janine countered, holding it up to show her.

“A children’s book?” the woman erroneously asked and Janine looked at her like she was so wrong.

“Take this!” Janine said and then withdrew her offer. “No, I’ll get you your own copy. Why doesn’t Dr. Campbell make this required reading?” she carried on.

“Okay, well I’m so glad you could stop by and share this theory of yours. I wish you all the best of luck with … you know… whatever it is you feel you must do,” Martine smiled.

“What I must do?” Janine asked incredulously. “Is it not obvious?”

“Well, sure …,” Martine tried, but was very unconvincing.

“I am … responsible …for Shaw now. I somehow have had such an effect on her that we are connected and with that, comes a great responsibility,” Janine explained carefully.

“You’re … responsible? How is that going to work exactly?” the military trained younger woman asked. What little she knew of the woman who shared a mother with her, she didn’t seem like the type that would welcome this attention.

Janine smiled at her, understanding because she hadn’t read the book. But it was a good question and Janine wasn’t exactly sure of the answer. Martine knew in her heart this could spell nothing but trouble.

“Janine, I think you need some … help … with this. Maybe, before you do anything … including telling Shaw, you could ask Doc’s opinion and she could help you … you know … with …. This.”

Janine like that. “Good idea. This is why I needed to tell you. Thanks, Martine,” Janine said and drained her drink. “Thank you, ladies. And welcome aboard, Ayala. I do hope Shaw likes you – so that we can be … friendly.”

And with that, the unmistakably mistaken woman left.

“I think … maybe … she’s got that all backwards,” Ayala said intrusively.

“Yeah and she’s not going to believe anyone, but Shaw,” Martine sighed.

* * *

Root didn’t play one of her kinkier games that night, but she found something more exhilarating. Stretching Shaw’s hands up to the top of the bed, they remained there – unshackled by anything except Shaw’s trust that Root wanted to please her as much as she wanted to please her body.

It was as much an awakening for Root as it was a step for Shaw.

* * *

“That’s … odd,” Root said over breakfast the next day as the two women sat glowing in the kitchen.

Isabelle couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Every time she looked at these two lovers, her face beamed.

“What is up with _her_ today?” Shaw whispered about the chef, who was not only smiling, but humming as well. “She’s like … more syrupy than usual. If that’s possible.”

“Janine wants to see me,” Root said, ignoring the question and getting back to her text.

“Oh, you’re in trouble. But secretly, I’m glad because you can keep her busy … right?” Shaw suggested and hoped.

“Why would she want to see me?” Root wondered.

“Maybe she wants to thank you for not firing her,” Shaw supposed and watched as the chef started to add a slow waltz to her routine around the kitchen.

“Oh, well, I’m sure it will be no big deal,” Root said smiling.

“Do you not see what’s going on here?” Shaw asked and jerked her head toward the woman who was singing now.

“She can tell when we’ve had incredible sex,” Root whispered and Shaw spit out her pancakes out onto the plate and choked.

“Are you okay?” Isabelle asked, coming over and pouring Sameen some water.

“Good, I’m good,” Shaw said, backing away from the counter and out of the room.

Isabelle stared at Root, who shrugged her shoulders rather than explain what just happened.

* * *

It would take Sameen a full twenty minutes to finally come back to that subject. Riding up in the elevator, Shaw turned to Root. “How would she know what kind of … night we had?” She had spent the last nineteen minutes trying to figure that out. The first sixty seconds, her brain didn’t have enough oxygen to work.

“Because, silly, you get _this_ look on your face,” Root explained as she ran her finger across Sameen’s brow and then down her check.

“What? What are you talking about? I don’t have a look. I certainly don’t have a look ..after … that,” Shaw argued.

Root always told Shaw the truth; it was a cornerstone of their relationship. This would explain why Root replied; “Yes, you do.”

“I don’t have a look,” Shaw insisted, but it was ineffective.

“Okay,” Root said and Sameen knew she meant – ‘ _okay, you don’t want to know you do_ ’ and not … ‘ _okay, you don’t_.’

The elevator doors opened and Sameen stood there for a minute. “I want to talk about this later.”

“Maybe…,” Root said, playing with the buttons on Sameen’s jacket, “…we could … you know … in my office and I could show you. Your look.”

There was so much about that suggestion in the wide open spaces that threw Sameen that she didn’t know where to begin. “Don’t ..,” she said looking around. “…make me look bad.”

Root’s whole body swayed as she touched Sameen’s shirt now. “I couldn’t make you look bad if I tried.” Her words had a way of derailing Sameen, even when she was certain she was in the right.

“Okay .. then,” Shaw said, as the doors closed and her girlfriend when upstairs.

* * *

The office was quiet and as Sameen turned to go to her area, she noticed there was no one buzzing around her. Then, she remembered that Janine was upstairs probably waiting to see Root. She went into the coffee room and was pleased to find someone brought in donuts. Grabbing a large jelly one and taking a bite, Shaw moaned at how good it tasted.

“Shaw,” Reese said as he entered the area to get his coffee.

“Reeseyougottatrydese,” Shaw said, her mouth full of the sugary delight.

“Do you … _ever_ …eat healthy?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Hey!” Shaw bellowed, swallowing so she could prove him wrong. “I had salad … once.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re aware of the nutritional merits of lettuce, Shaw,” Reese said. “So, Ayala is coming in today to take us through the soft spots in our security system. I’d like you to sit in.”

“Will there be food?” Shaw asked, thinking she’d only go if there was.

“Well, if her updates are about how easily she overrode our systems, I’d say, we’ll be serving humble pie,” he quipped. And then left.

“I am not … eating that!” Shaw yelled. “I didn’t design your stupid systems,” she shouted down the hall.

“We’re a team, Shaw,” John answered back.

“Team, my …,” she said, but decided not to voice her full thought.

She went back to her desk and when she realized Janine was not back, she texted Root to make sure she was okay. Root assured her that she was, and was in with Harry getting an update about the machine.

“Hmm,” Shaw thought. It was odd for Janine to not be right there, and she wondered where she was. She didn’t ever think it would be Iris’ office – in spite of the fact that she had insisted the woman see her just yesterday.

Martine arrived and asked Shaw to go to breakfast. Like most people, Martine understood the best time to talk to Sameen was over a meal.

* * *

There was only one person who knew where Janine was and that’s because Janine was already sitting in her office when she had arrived earlier that day. When Iris flipped on the lights to her inner office, she was surprised to find Janine already sitting on her couch.

“Janine!” Iris said, clutching her heart out of fright.

“I had to come,” she explained and Iris thought maybe Shaw had insisted that she visit the therapist.

Janine apologized profusely for not making an appointment, but explained that this really was urgent. Remembering how upset Sameen was about the woman’s actions, Iris suggested that it may not be an emergency.

“Oh, but it is,” Janine argued and Iris took off her coat and sat in her chair.

“Okay, Janine,” the therapist began. “In your own words, can you tell me why you’re here?” She didn’t want the woman there under orders from her boss because of her overzealous nature. She wanted Janine to feel she could talk freely, but because she wanted to, not to please Sameen.

“You have to help me,” Janine pleaded and Iris was about to say – recognizing there is a problem is half the solution when Janine explained,

“…. We have to help Shaw.”


	44. Revelations

Iris coughed loudly, her throat actually closing to prevent her from saying anything to Janine’s declaration. “Would you mind?” she finally asked instead and grabbed her tea.

“No, go ahead,” Janine said, aware that she had not even given the woman a chance to get settled.

The green tea, no milk, one sugar, soothed Iris’ throat. “So, if I understand you, you think we need to help Sameen. And how?” Iris asked, unable to not ask directly.

“It’s a little complicated,” Janine explained and then assured the therapist she didn’t mean she couldn’t get it. She asked if Iris was familiar with the book and when she assured her she was, Janine began. Iris put her tea down slowly and got her pad and pen. “I didn’t get it at first,” Janine explained. “I thought I had some kind of crush on Shaw because she’s so …,” the woman said and then looked off in the distance as the many adjectives filled her head. Iris finally cleared her throat softly to bring the woman back. “But then, she took me home the other night and I thought I was fired because I had acted inappropriately.”

“What did you do?” Iris asked, to make sure she was on the same page.

“I declared to her sister and Martine that I would do anything in the world for her. And I would,” Iris repeated.

“And you thought Sameen fired you?” Iris prompted her.

“Yes, but now I realized I was overreacting. She came to work and told me in no uncertain terms that I could not quit. I thought she was just being nice, but then she asked me about being tamed. I didn’t get it, but she told me about this book and I read it right away. I finally got to the part about the fox telling the Prince about how their friendship had tamed him,” Janine explained. “Well, I think Shaw was trying to tell me that I tamed her. And now, I’m responsible for her!”

“Oh!” Iris said, wondering how this woman misinterpreted what happened. “Okay, let’s take… one thing at a time,” Iris suggested because she could see Janine’s train of thought veering off the track … off the overpass …down into a ditch … and exploding.

“Even Martine said I couldn’t leave because no one else could be with Shaw. I really think she sees the effect I have on her,” Janine bellowed and her tone was one of someone who wielded a great power, and didn’t want it.

Iris knew that misbeliefs that someone had, that were then confirmed, were even harder to give up. “I have found that what helps with situations like this, is if we first test the different parts of the theory.”

Janine looked at the woman incredulously. How could she want to test what was so obvious? It was like conducting an experiment to see if rain was wet. “How?” she asked.

“Well, what effect do you think you’re having on Ms. Shaw?” Iris asked. “How is she … different since you … tamed her?”

“Oh, Doc you have to understand that I didn’t even know I was doing it. I mean, it must be so engrained in me that I had no idea it was happening,” Janine confessed.

“I assure you, Janine, I believe you,” Iris confirmed.

“I’m not even sure how deep this goes,” Janine said, her imagination driving that train.

“But you do believe your connection with Sameen has been a choice … for both of you?” Iris asked, suggesting that Shaw wasn’t under a spell.

“Yes, I guess,” the woman answered.

“Most times, “ Iris began slowly. “… our connection with people is … a two-way street.”

Janine had to think about that, but heartily agreed. “Oh, my God, yes! I mean, since we first met, that woman has been amazing.” Just the thought of everything that happened made Janine jump up from the couch so she could walk around. “First, she sized me up as the perfect fit and took my clothes. Then, she saved my life. I fell over in a boat and she jumped in to save me. I think Ms. Groves could see how close we were because she promoted me to be Sameen’s assistant.”

“Sounds to me like … Sameen … has had an influence on you, too,” Iris suggested slowly.

“Oh, she has! I mean, she’s amazing, doc,” Janine gushed and sat back down. “Working for her, makes me want to be a better person.”

The confession brought silence to the room. “How so?” Iris finally asked.

“Sameen is … so sure of herself, you know? She’s tough, and yet caring. She complains, but she’s the hardest working person I know. She’s head over heels in love with Ms. Groves,” she said and then reality started to creep in.

“How do you feel about that?” Iris asked quietly.

“About Shaw and Ms. Groves? Oh, they’re a match made in heaven. Anyone can see that,” Janine agreed. Then, she reflected on the change that happened when Shaw was around Root and it was … undeniable. “Oh …,” she said, looking back at the therapist for confirmation of what just flashed through her mind.

“What is it?” Iris asked.

“I haven’t … done anything. It’s been Ms. Groves all along who has … tamed … Ms. Shaw,” Janine said, the weight of those words crushing her.

“How stupid …” she uttered as her face reddened with embarrassment.

“No, Janine,” Iris immediately assured her. “I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

* * *

The person not underestimating Janine was sitting across from Shaw as she devoured her second breakfast. “Then he had the nerve to ask – ‘Do you ever eat anything healthy?’ Shaw said in a mocking tone of Reese’s inquiry.

“You had … that salad …once,” Martine reminded her and bonded her connection with Shaw for life.

“RIGHT?” Sameen yelled.

“Hey, speaking of healthy, I wanted to talk to you today about a really delicate situation,” Martine whispered.

“Oh, Reese told me, don’t worry,” Shaw assured her.

“Reese did?” Martine asked surprised. “I didn’t think this kind of stuff caught his attention.”

“Yeah, I guess because it involves one of his own,” and Sameen meant the person in charge of the security system that Ayala cracked.

“Wow,” Martine said. “So, you’re okay with this?”

“Sure, it is what it is,” Shaw said, not giving too much thought to her sister being a consultant.

“And… you’re not going to …discourage it?” Martine asked to be sure. “You don’t want me to discourage it?”

The question made no sense to Sameen. If she discouraged her sister from working there, it would be an indication she cared or felt threatened.

“Of course not,” Shaw said, resuming her steady pace of eating. “I welcome it, really,” she added because she wasn’t intimidated.

“Oh,” Martine said, thinking Shaw somehow had found the silver lining of having an overly devoted assistant.

“You can even tell her,” Shaw said to show there were no hard feelings that Martine was getting friendly with her sibling.

Of course, Martine had no idea she was talking about Ayala.

* * *

Iris was having better luck with being on the same page with Janine than Martine was with Shaw.

“I think … I misunderstood all of this,” Janine said, her voice cracking.

“I’m not sure this is a black and white issue,” Iris said, seeing how distressed the woman was.

“What do you mean?” Iris asked, shoving her hand in her pocket for a tissue to dab her eye.

“Well, I think we affect the people we work with, the people we’re close to. It seems to me Ms. Shaw has come to your aid, as you have come to hers. It’s a mutual connection,” iris pointed out.

Janine was desperate to hold out hope that she wasn’t completely wrong. “I do try to help,” she said. “She asked me to make sure her mother went to her doctor’s appointment.”

“It sounds to me like Ms. Shaw trusts you,” Iris pointed out. Then Iris did something she didn’t do often; she revealed something personal. “I believe we can be … tamed … by more than one person, Janine. People who are important to us can do that, too.” She didn’t say more, but she was thinking about her own experience with being taken with Sameen. It wasn’t in a romantic way, but she was definitely enticed by the woman.  
Janine liked that. “Yes, I think you’re right,” she said, feeling a little less foolish. “I really would do anything for her.”

“It’s important for relationships to be equitable,” Iris slipped in.

“I know,” Janine said, because she might have been over exuberant, but she was also smart. “I guess we make a good team,” she concluded.

Iris smiled and Janine thanked her for seeing her so early in the day. “I can see why Shaw likes coming here to talk to you,” the assistant concluded and although Iris didn’t deny or confirm; she smiled to think people knew that about Shaw.

* * *

Martine was a dot your I’s and cross your T’s kind of woman so she asked Shaw again. “So, you’re okay if she’s … overzealous?”

“She can do whatever she wants. It won’t bother me in the least,” Shaw confirmed.

It surprised Martine, but she figured Shaw had come to accept the devotee in her own way. The women parted their ways and went back to work.

* * *

Martine ran into Janine, who was on her way back from Iris’ office. “I might as well start with apologizing to you,” Janine said. “I hope I didn’t ruin your dinner … again.”

Martine had a soft spot for Janine, because she felt she understood how easily someone could be enamored with Sameen. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t get it,” Janine confessed and proceeded to tell her friend how foolish she felt. “Here I was thinking I tamed Shaw when all the time, I was taking credit for what Ms. Groves has done,” she said, smacking her head.

“Hey, look, lovers aren’t the only ones we change for. You’re a good person and I’m certain Shaw likes having you around. She just told me.”

“She did?” Janine asked surprised.

“Yeah, I asked her about you …cause I was afraid you were losing it, and she said it’s not a problem at all. In fact, she said … she welcomes it,” Martine messengered, thinking she had the right parties.

“So, she does see me as an asset?” Janine asked sincerely.

“How could she not?” Martine countered. “I mean … I get it, I really do.” And that was all the woman would say about how she understood the effect Shaw had on her.

“Thanks, Martine. You’re a good friend,” Janine said.

* * *

Now, there was only one person to thank and she was making her way to her office. Janine … for the first time ever … knocked before she would walk in.

“Hey,” Shaw said smiling. Then, she noticed the woman wasn’t barging in the way she usually did. “You …okay?”

“May I come in?” Janine asked.

“What are you doing?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“I’m waiting for you to invite me in,” Janine explained.

“Don’t … do … _that_ ,” Shaw said, because she didn’t like when people suddenly changed their habits.

“I wanted to apologize,” Janine said and Shaw just stared at her. “For misunderstanding.”

“Okay, sure,” Sameen said, smiling and secretly wishing that would be the end of the conversation.

“But between talking to Doctor Campbell and Martine, I think I understand,” Janine said.

“Oh, good?” Sameen meant to say, but it came out as a question.

“I’ll be … _whatever_ you need me to be,” the assistant declared and meant it with her whole heart.

Unfortunately, Sameen had no idea what she was talking about.

“I _need_ you to be … you,” Shaw said because she didn’t like change. Even when it was stuff that annoyed the hell out of her.

“Really?” Janine asked, getting filled up.

‘ _Not tears, not tears._ ’ Shaw thought but could see how sincere the woman was being. “Yes,” she decided to say authoritatively. “Just be … who … or what … you are.”

Janine moved so fast that even the former operative couldn’t stop her. Shaw stiffened her body and stood there with her arms down at her side while Janine grabbed her into a bear hug. “Thank you, Shaw. I will. I won’t change a thing!”

“Good?” Shaw guessed and with that the woman released her so she could get back to work.

“You won’t be disappointed, Shaw. I’ll be _more_ me than ever before,” Janine assured her boss.

Sameen went to call the woman back, but nothing came out of her mouth. Until her brain finally informed her what she really wanted. “Root!” she said in a soft, pathetic voice.

Shaw had no way of knowing it, but the love of her life was only a few steps away.


	45. Sibling Rivalry

Root was always a welcome sight to Sameen’s eyes, but especially when she simply couldn’t figure out what was going on.

“Hello,” Root said sweetly as she walked in and kissed Sameen. Instead of reciprocating, the shorter woman grabbed Root by the arms with urgency.

“You know in your heart that there isn’t a single sane person in this place except me, right? Okay, the Doc is sane. And maybe Reese some days, except he’s got that really dry sense of humor and he hardly smiles, so there’s that,” she rambled as she gave the matter serious thought. “But other than that ….zip!”

“Is someone upsetting you?” Root asked, ready to take action.

“I don’t do upset,” Shaw replied, and everyone knew that wasn’t true. “Isn’t there an inoculation against crazy? Can’t you invent that?”

“Seems my inventions of late are coming under scrutiny,” Root said and crossed her arms feeling unusually defensive.

“What? What does that mean?” Shaw said, the table turning so she could be protective.

“Well, Ayala is on her way here to share how she picked apart out security system; one that I believed was state-of-the-art,” Root explained. As usual, Root was more annoyed with herself for not seeing the flaws than she was anyone else.

“That’s …ridiculous. I’m sure she did something … ,” Shaw said, suddenly becoming very aggravated with her sibling.

“No, this is good. I mean, at least it’s someone we know who did this and is willing to share how she did it,” Root decided. “I’m just glad they were breaking in to see you and not steal anything.”

That didn’t make Sameen feel any better and now she was caught between admiring Ayala’s skill and wanting to strangle her. “Well, I’ll … I’ll,” the protector started to say.

The fact that she would even want to do something impressed and pleased Root. “It’s okay, Sweetie. If someone’s good at what they do, then we should see it as an admirable quality*. I’m glad we hired her."

“Do you always look on the bright side of things?” Sameen asked, already knowing the answer.

Root smiled her guilty-as-charged expression and grabbed Sameen’s arm to walk to the meeting. “I have you, so there is only one side and it’s always bright.”

“You know that’s an annoying habit, right?” Sameen asked and was serious.

“I know,” Root said, not apologizing because it was truly how she saw life now.

Things had to be pretty dire for Root to feel like the world was going to hell in a handbasket. Shaw was certain that was the only direction we were all headed.

* * *

Shaw was at a loss when she felt she needed to protect Root, but Root wasn’t really upset about the thing annoying her. Her usual MO was to issue threats that were thinly veiled promises. She started with Reese. “If she comes in here all cocky about this, it will be the last thing she does,” Sameen said, her nostrils flaring.

John was not under the impression at all that the younger woman wanted to come there to rub anyone’s nose in the fact that she got past their security systems easily. “I don’t think …,” he started to say, but Shaw sensed he was about to say something that contradicted her warning.

“I’ll be right _here_ … ,” Shaw said and pointed to a chair.

Reese wanted to point out that he would be .. _right-over-there_ … but he didn’t think Shaw would see the humor in it. So, instead, he forced a smile and said … “Okay.”

Shaw grabbed one of the donuts and shoved it in her mouth, attempting to take the largest bite that wouldn’t choke her to death. She was so animated that even Reese caught on.

“You okay there, Shaw?” he said just above a whisper.

Just then, Martine walked in with Ayala, who looked so relaxed, it took Shaw by surprise.

“You know, Reese,” Shaw said, swallowing the wad of dough in one gulp, “… There is a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer. It’s hammer time,” she announced with a smirk.

“I’m thinking you probably use them the same way, Shaw,” Reese said, but not within earshot.

* * *

Root took a seat next to her woman who looked like those 4th grade science kits of erupting volcanoes … right before they blow. “You okay, Sweetie?” Root asked and she put her hand on Sameen’s.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Martine opened the meeting. “A few weeks ago, we had a breach two break in of our security system which you all were updated on previously. We were fortunate in that the perpetrators were actually looking for someone and not something. Upon further developments, we were lucky enough to negotiate with said parties and they have agreed to work for us, instead of infiltrate us again,” Martine said, trying to note the seriousness of the event, while hoping people would listen and not detest the woman responsible.

Before anyone could say anything, she introduced Ayala.

“Thank you, Ms. Rousseau, Mr. Reese and especially, Ms. Groves, for reaching out to me and offering me the opportunity to work with you. Given the nature of the intrusion, it was never our intent to work against you. However, it was our objective to remove any obstacles that got in our way. And that is exactly what we did.”  
In spite of Ayala’s pleasant and professional tone, Root knew to press her hand down on Shaw’s immediately. Shaw turned to Root and growled; “If she says one thing that I don’t like, I’m taking her down.”

“Okay, Sweetie,” Root whispered back, knowing there’d be little she could do to stop her girlfriend.

“We needed an entry point, but before that, we needed to know where the cameras were so that we could make sure our entry went undetected. While most programs are locked behind intense fire walls, one system that people access continuously is their benefit’s page. Key trails on any laptop that a worker might bring with them into a public place will give off passwords as they are entered. Once we had this information, we had access to a list of people on the floor that we wanted to gain entrance to. Once we had that,” Ayala said making it sound as if it had been child’s play up to that point, “…we were in.”

“You can’t get onto a floor just because you know the name of someone,” a Security Team member pointed out.

“True,” Ayala said and the more she talked, the more people were having trouble hating her. She wasn’t showing off and she didn’t sound cocky.

Neither of those things helped Shaw to calm down.

“But, Exotic Breeze Orchids can,” Ayala said.

“That sounds both vague and dangerous,” Root whispered and Shaw turned to her and stared. She wanted to demand that Root stop being intrigued.

Expecting to hear how they used old city blueprints to break through the basement or the building next door, or used state-of-the-art drones to disable intricate systems, they were surprised when Ayala waved for the clerk to bring in a large bouquet of flowers.

“Once we could access the names of employees, we searched social media to find anyone having an anniversary or a birthday. Signing the card from their partner meant that the flowers were guaranteed delivery.” With that, Ayala clicked on the screen that showed the security feed for the day the flowers were delivered. It clearly showed what appeared to be a man delivering the orchids and leaving. “All I had to do was leave them at the front desk,” she announced and people were surprised that her disguise was so good. Including her sister, who stared at the screen, amazed at the transformation.

“Okay, that was … good,” Shaw admitted under her breath and grabbed another donut.

Ayala went on to explain that the flowers were delivered, taken upstairs and placed on a desk. The tiny cameras contained within the stems gave them clear view of where cameras were and what else might be in their path.

“Were there drones in those flowers?” another person asked as they desperately tried to stay ahead of their mastermind intruder.

“I wish I had thought of that,” Ayala smiled as she lied because she had thought of that, but Azar didn’t want her to make their break-in so elaborate. They weren’t stealing anything; they were there to make sure a message got to someone.

The more the younger woman spoke and explained the nature of their intrusion without giving out the exact details, the more people relaxed.

* * *

“We finally used this,” Ayala said, producing the small scrambler that Azar carried in her purse that disrupted the signal of any camera she approached. “It’s got a radius longer than most scramblers,” she explained.

“Who came up with that?” someone asked and Ayala hesitated for a second before saying; “Ms. Groves.”

Shaw’s head snapped to look at Root, hoping she would give the signal to destroy this woman. How dare she suggest that she was clever enough to use one of Root’s own inventions against her!  
Root had to think about that for a second, but she got it before anyone else did. She nodded her head slowly and even smiled to think that Azar could find her invention and use it. “You reversed the polarization on the cameras?” Root asked and Ayala said, yes.

Shaw wanted to slap the smile off her sibling’s face because she was certain that this was tantamount to stealing. But when she turned to look at Root, she was smiling.

“So, you recalibrated the camera’s visual cortex so that it would see everything …., except …,” Root said, and stood up as she solved the puzzle. “Azar was wearing something that did the refracting so that it still showed the foreground or background, without her in it!”

If Root had just won Jeopardy, she would not have sounded more excited. Shaw stared at her girlfriend, trying to grasp how she could be happy

“It was a thin network of wire attached to her clothing,” Ayala explained.

And then Root uttered something that made Shaw drop her head into her hand and groan.

“Oh my God! That’s genius!” Root exclaimed.

There would be no wiping that smile off Ayala’s face now.

* * *

The woman had hoped to make a good impression – not just on her new employers, but also on her sister. Of course, Shaw had no way of knowing that the younger sibling had grown up in Shaw’s shadow even though they never met. But that also made Ayala resent her older sister. It was hard enough that she always knew her mother yearned for the older sibling, and spent her life trying to figure out a way back to her, but to find out that her sister was a doctor, a marine, an operative … and excelled at all of them, was hard. This would explain why there was an underlying competitive nature in Ayala.

Shaw wasn’t exactly extending an olive branch either. She felt Root was being kind and understanding. Too understanding; and she was going to make up for both of those things. As employees gathered around the guest speaker to ask questions about her background, Shaw stood there in disdain.

“Can’t we fire her for breaking and entering?” she asked Reese.

“We just hired her to tell us how she did it,” he pointed out.

“She’s not working … here .. though, right?” Shaw reminded him.

“She’ll work remotely,” he assured her.

“Yeah, Siberia is nice this time of year,” Shaw suggested.

“I think she’s Israeli,” John pointed out, as if he needed to.

“So, this was …uhm …good,” Martine said, approaching Shaw. “We get a jump on Nano technology and we just have to frisk all the flower deliveries now,” she said, trying to make a joke.

“Really?” Shaw asked sarcastically.

“Come on, Shaw. I helped you with your crazy assistant, didn’t I?’ Martine pointed out. “I don’t want it to be weird between you and me because your sister works here.”

Shaw had never heard Martine use a pleading tone before. She let out a long sigh. “Doesn’t matter to me,” she admitted. “I won’t be seeing her.” She could tell from the expression on Martine’s face that something was wrong. “WHAT?” she said, grabbing Martine’s arm.

“She’s going to be here all week to show us that technology,” Martine shared. “She just worked it out with Ms. Groves.”

Shaw’s head turned to look at her sister talking with Root and the two of them were deep in the conversation. It was true – Ayala had just offered to come back and give a hands-on demonstration of the technology that she had talked about. She was dangling nanotechnology in front of the tech genius’ nose and Root couldn’t resist. She would keep her away from Shaw, she decided. And it was only for the week.

Shaw didn’t see it that way.

“What did I tell you?” Sameen said, grabbing Ayala’s arm.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, trying to stay calm.

“I told you - your job was to take care of Azar. And that’s what you’re going to do,” Shaw warned.

“I don’t need you to tell me to take care of my mother,” Ayala said in a hush, but definite voice.

Martine could see the exchange and cleared the conference room out so that they could have this moment alone … with Root.

“Ayala has assured me that Azar is okay to be alone for a few hours,” Root said to Shaw, because she wanted her to know she remembered and she asked.

“I told you that you were to stay with her,” Shaw said, unaware of just how much of an older sibling she sounded like. “Get your stuff, you're leaving,” she concluded.

“Hell will freeze over before I listen to you,” Ayala spat, feeling like she had a lifetime of Shaw’s words even though she was absent.

“Then you better get your coat,” Shaw said, her eyes locked on the younger woman.

“Ms. Groves?” Ayala said and Root knew she had to do something.

“Ms. Shaw is a senior member of my Security Team, Ms. Morin. If she feels your presence here would be a hindrance, then, I’m sorry, but I will listen to her,” Root explained. Root was sorry to miss out on having her staff get this knowledge first hand, but nothing was worth Shaw being upset.

“Fine!” Ayala said, and rolled her eyes in such a manner that it looked oddly familiar to Shaw for some reason.

“I can make things unpleasant,” the younger woman warned Sameen, and basically what she meant was … “ _I’m telling Mommy on you._ ”

“If you worked here, for even a day,” Shaw yelled at the woman as she left, “…you’d know that wasn’t possible. I eat unpleasant for breakfast!”

It wasn’t her best comeback, but Sameen was pleased she had gotten the last word. She turned to see that Root seemed rather preoccupied, looking down at her phone.

‘ _It is imperative that you bring her to Azar_ ,’ the message read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Taken from an Amy Acker quote about Root on Twitter.  
> Not mine.


	46. Testing the Limits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need to see if Shaw can reach a resolution with her mother, so in spite of Root's decision,   
> we need them together.

Root pushed her phone back in her pocket, about to have her own showdown. But while she was deciding how to rebuke the machine’s latest command, Sameen was calming down and seeing the light. She had caught the disappointment in Root’s voice, even though it was well hidden underneath her decision that Ayala could not be there.

“You know,” Shaw started saying to Root before she left and shaking her head that she was being so logical about this, “… I appreciate what you just did, but we really need to see what the two of them cooked up.”

“Really?” Root asked, because she didn’t like to see Sameen so upset.

“Yeah, I can … stand it for a while,” Sameen said, putting her brave face on. “I just … I always thought if I had a sibling,” she openly admitted to Root, “…they would … you know … obey my every command.” Even Sameen couldn’t keep the smile off her face with that one.

“Thanks,” Root said, kissing Sameen’s lips and suggesting they meet up later.

“You’re in a hurry,” Shaw noted.

“Yeah, I have to put someone in their place,” Root said, not offering the details before she left.

* * *

Sameen could see her sister by Martine’s desk. She drew a deep breath and started over there to tell her sister she had rethought the whole thing. She had the nicest words planned out in her head, but when she got there, it all came out in typical _Shawese_.

“Okay, listen,” Sameen barked, “I thought this over and it doesn’t make any sense for you not to share what you have in person with the team. This does not mean I want to see you every hour, every day or go for coffee,” she continued. She could see the surprise on Ayala’s face, but she could see how pleased Martine looked. “Yeah, so … as long as Azar is okay, then … go back to whatever schedule you had.” Shaw nodded her head as if to say – “that’s all,” and she went back to her desk.

Seconds later, Ayala followed her into her cubicle. Equally as uncomfortable with expressing her feelings, she stuck her hand out. “Thanks,” she said and Shaw stared at her and her hand for a few seconds before taking it.

“Yeah,” Sameen said and her sibling left.

As if appearing out of nowhere, Janine was in Shaw’s office. “You want me to keep an eye on her?” she asked, in the kind of voices television spies use when on a mission.

Sameen had to smile at how immediate the woman’s actions were. “No, thanks. I think Martine is going to do a good job of that.”

* * *

Root marched into her office so fiercely, that her secretary wasn’t sure it was even her. It was very rare to see her boss upset. She couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she could hear Root raising her voice.

“Harry, is the voice interface ready?” she said on the phone to her adoptive uncle. When he assured her it was, she told him she was going to test it right away. She banged on her keys until she was connected to the machine.

“Can you hear me?” she said, speaking freely from her seat. She had no earpiece in.  
“ _Yes_ ,” came the answer through the speakers. It was a mixture of voices.

Root was already aware of what the machine might try. “I suggest you do not choose a voice from my history and rather, choose one from the selections we have uploaded.”

If the machine was capable of smiling, it would have at how brilliant Root was. She already knew that, if given the option, the machine would have chosen the voice of someone Root was familiar with – an old teacher or childhood friend. Something that would have been attractive to Root.

But Root wasn’t having _any_ of that.

“ _Hello, Root_ ,” the pleasant sounding female voice said back.

“I am giving you this capability to speak to me because there is something urgent we need to discuss,” Root said, pacing back and forth.

“ _The modulation of your voice indicates that you are … angry_ ,” the machine noted.

If Root was in the mood to smile, she would have because she was impressed at how quickly the program picked that up. But she wasn’t done.

“ _You use that tone rarely, and it usually has something to do with Sameen_ ,” the machine revealed calmly.

“You got that right,” Root said, and stopped pacing. “Sameen is not a pawn in your chess game. You and I better come to an understanding that while you feel an attachment to Azar and maybe Ayala, you come through me before you get to Sameen.”

It took the machine milliseconds to decipher how serious Root was. And in case there was any doubt, Root continued.

“That means you do not send directives to bring her to Azar. If Azar wants to see her, she can call. We’re not all bowing down because you feel she gave birth to you somehow. Got it?” Root asked.

“ _Yes, Root, I understand. Her presence makes Azar … happy_ ,” the machine explained.

“Her presence sometimes upsets Sameen,” Root countered.

“ _Resolution is possible_ ,” the analytical program introduced.

“On Sameen’s terms,” Root argued immediately.

“ _Are you going to delete my memory_?” the machine segued.

“We’re still working on that,” Root admitted and felt slightly guilty for talking about someone’s demise … to that someone.

“ _Thank you, Root,_ ” the woman’s voice said because the program told her it was the polite thing to do.

Root disconnected the interface and sat down. She could explain the questions based on programs that were included in the machine’s core. But she couldn’t explain how the machine became so attached to Azar. She had just told the entity that the two women were not to be ordered to be placed together, and now she was about to ask Sameen to do just that.

The bottom line was that they needed Azar’s help with the machine. Before they did anything, they needed to know the full extent of the results of their actions. Only Azar could shed light on that.

* * *

“Hi, Sweetie,” Root said over the phone to Sameen. “How would you feel about … a _little_ dinner party?”

Shaw knew the answer right away. “There is nothing I like about dinner when that adjective proceeds it,” she quipped.

“Okay,” Root laughed. “How about a dinner party with plenty of food?”

“How is that different from dinner every night?” Shaw asked, to be sure.

“Well, instead of just the two of us, I was thinking we could invite a couple of people. Namely, Azar. I think we’re at the point where we need to discuss the machine with her.”

“Oh, great,” Sameen moaned, “My mother _AND_ her annoying artificial not-so-intelligent intelligence?”

“Just your … family. We could ask Harry and Grace? Or Fusco and Iris? John and Joss?” she offered.

“Right, like I want my therapist to see the woman who can push me over the edge. And Harry won’t want to be in the same room with me when there’s food involved. And Reese would enjoy it just too much, so no,” Shaw thought through.

“I could just meet Azar alone, if that’s easier,” Root offered.

“No!” Shaw immediately responded. She didn’t trust the woman enough to allow Root to be there alone. “Invite her. And …,” Shaw said, looking over at Ayala and how professional she was being. “…my sister.”

“Really?” Root asked, to be sure.

“Yes, I don’t want Azar traveling alone. I’d rather Ayala be with her,” Sameen said.

“Okay, Sweetie, if you think so. If you change your mind, we’ll cancel,” Root assured her.

Shaw hung up and watched her sister. In spite of not wanting anything to do with the woman, she found something inside her stirring – as if some part of her had a beacon attached to the woman who shared some genetic material. The more she pulled away; it seemed to Shaw, the more something inside wanted to get closer.

“Coulda been a happy Axis II Personality, but noooo,” she lamented. Then she typed with fury her one condition. “ _There better be steak!_ ” Root assured her there would be whatever she wanted.

“Probably a freaking vegetarian,” Sameen said softly as she looked over at her sibling.


	47. Uncanny Parallels

Root felt conflicted about inviting Sameen’s family. She needed Azar’s input about the machine, but worried when she thought how the two women could upset her girlfriend. So, she checked with Sameen three more times before calling Isabelle about the dinner. Shaw took care of the invitation by approaching Ayala before she left.

“Root needs Azar, so if she’s up to it, I want you to bring her to dinner tonight. You’re not one of those vegans, are you?” Shaw all but moaned.

“I am,” Ayala said, no apology in her voice.

“Oh, geez, I knew it,” Shaw said and shook her head. “I just knew it.”

Ayala tried not to be insulted by the remarks because she had seen how her sibling ate and was certain – nutritional value was not high on her list of concerns.

“I could come _after_ dinner,” Ayala offered, unsure of the cooking arrangements.

“No, I can manage … I guess,” Shaw said, as if she already knew the experience would be horrifying. She looked at Ayala, her eye-roll nothing short of asking - ‘ _how could you_?’

Shaw confirmed to Root they would come and groaned about having to dine with ‘one of those’ people. Root bit her lip trying not to laugh. “You’re being very brave,” she said and Sameen frowned at the response. In spite of the purpose of the dinner, all Sameen could talk about before was how someone could use soy instead of real milk. “I mean, this is why we have cows!” she said emphatically.

* * *

While Root worked on her short agenda for the evening, Sameen had hers all set. As soon as her mother and sibling arrived, she took charge.

“Thanks for coming,” Root said as she took their coats and asked how Azar was doing after her first treatment. She said she was doing well.

“Good,” Shaw said and clicked her tongue to call for Bear. He sat right next to her, not happy with the company. “Now apologize to Bear.”

“I’m sorry?” Azar said, looking at Root to interpret.

“You violated his trust when you were with him and that was … not cool. You know, when you put Vaseline on his nose,” Sameen explained. Bear looked up at Shaw; a more adoring look never gleaned in his eyes. Silence hung in the air as he turned back to look at the woman …. And waited.

“Well, I do apologize, Mr. Bear,” Azar said and she meant it even though she wasn’t quite sure the dog would understand.

Sameen looked down at Bear, who returned the gaze and only then did she decide it was acceptable. “He said okay,” she said correctly. “And it’s … Bear.” Then, she focused on her sibling. “Now, you will apologize to Isabelle, although I’m pretty sure she won’t remember how you rendered her unconscious, so good luck with that,” Sameen ordered her sibling. She stood there and waved her finger for her sister to go.

Ayala was about to prove she could be quick on her feet. Not taking the order as a threat, she walked into the kitchen after asking where the woman was. She reintroduced herself and said she was sorry the last time she was there, she hadn’t said hello or goodbye properly. Isabelle thought it was odd that she would apologize for something she could hardly recall, but was gracious just the same and thanked her.

Ayala walked back in and smiled. “Done,” she said to her bossy sister.

“Good,” Sameen said, in case this was a game of who got the last word.

* * *

The women sat down at the dining room table, which was beautifully set. “This is lovely china,” Azar remarked and Root told her how she loved it, but how easily it broke.

“I’ve had to replace several place settings because they’ve been dropped … or fallen off the table,” Root smiled and Sameen choked a little on her water.

After the salads were served and consumed, Isabelle rolled in several different dishes. When Root had explained the dietary constraints of their guests, she assured her boss that she would find the perfect entrees. First, she placed a platter of Moroccan-flavored tofu with apricots, almonds, and olives with egg-free challah bread near the youngest guest. Next, she served a platter of herbed rice and lamb chops, prepared with spices familiar to Azar.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” Azar said because the aroma reminded her of the cooking of her native country.

“And for you,” Isabelle said as she placed the large plate of steak, still practically sizzling, in front of her favorite beef connoisseur.

Salmon and rice were then placed by Root who thanked her friend for going to all the trouble. Isabelle assured her it was her pleasure.

Root smiled at what seemed like Sameen’s slightly exaggerated cutting of the steak, emphasizing that this meal was not as easy as spooning something. Azar watched in pleasurable amazement as her daughter finished a steak that would challenge larger people. Sameen would, more than once, explain that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend what tofu was, nor did she care to.

As soon as the meals were consumed, Isabelle returned, and it was a contest who could compliment her more. Ayala thanked her for the vegan meal and Azar insisted she carry the dishes out with her as she praised the woman’s abilities. All of this took Sameen’s attention away from the totally outlandish thing that was occurring in the living room.

Ayala was making a fuss over Bear.

And _worse_ – he was _enjoying_ it.

He was summoned immediately in his native tongue to come back to Shaw, who stared at him so hard, his tail went between his legs. “Et tu, Brute?” she whispered. He wanted to point out that it was very confusing as to the general consensus on these two women. Sometimes they were liked, sometimes they weren’t.

He howled he was going with the flow here, but Shaw wasn’t taking any excuses.

“He’s beautiful,” Ayala said and Shaw saw his expression and remarked – “Okay, okay.”

“It’s as if he understands every word you say,” her sibling noted and Shaw swore he raised one eyebrow. One.

“Only when he wants to,” Shaw added.

* * *

The women gathered in the living room for coffee and dessert and Sameen put a small piece of cake in her hand and fed it right to the dog to make sure he wasn’t confused about who his favorite was. He licked her hand, her arm, and would have continued, but Root instructed him to stay.

“He is certainly attached to you,” Ayala noted.

Sameen wanted to warn her sister to stop playing nice because that made it harder for her to be … well, unreasonable. But instead she decided to get to Root’s agenda.

“Before Root explains to you why she asked you to come,” Shaw said, putting her bottle of beer down on the coaster on the table, “… my offer still stands to shoot the living daylights out of that machine.”

Azar could hear the change of tone in her daughter’s voice and nodded. “Noted,” she confirmed.

Root went on to explain what they had been working on. In order for the AI to stop manipulating any events, they could write a program that would delete its memory every night. She explained what would happen if they did.

“So, there would be no memory of what it did the day before?” Azar asked.

“Correct,” Root replied. “We have located certain … memory files that could be backed up and given to you,” she said, directly to Azar. Of course, she was referring to the countless hours the machine spent finding Sameen at events like her graduations from high school, college and medical school.

The older woman smiled. It was like someone saying they were going to tear your house down, but would give you the photo albums and video recordings before they did.

“Is this the only alternative?” Azar asked quietly.

“The machine is capable of, I believe, of doing wonderful things. Before we can apply those applications, we have to make sure that we’re not leaving any decision making it her hands,” Root said. “Not before she’s tested, anyway.”

“I see,” Azar said because she believed the machine no longer belonged to her. It had chosen Root.

“It calls you …,” Root started to say, but Azar but her off.

“Yes, I know,” she smiled.

“I’m thinking of what our family portrait would look like,” Sameen laughed out loud. “You know, you and me, and that machine in between us,” she said to her sibling.

Ayala had to admit; it was a funny image and laughed in response. “In matching outfits,” she added and laughed more.

Azar’s heart beat in her chest a little faster; just at the thought that Sameen was softening her approach with her sibling. She understood it would be near impossible for Sameen to forgive her, but Ayala had nothing to do with what happened. When the younger woman offered to help Root refill the coffee cups, it left Sameen alone with her mother. Root was very aware of doing that and left Bear there to signal if she should return immediately.

‘ _The pressure_ ,’ is all he could think.

Seconds passed in quiet before Sameen asked how her mother was feeling. She assured her she was following the regiment and was having no side effects.

“Good,” Sameen said and then took a long drink from the bottle of beer.

“I hear that Mr. Reese has hired Ayala,” Azar cautiously said.

“Yeah; they were more than impressed with how you got past the security stations,” Shaw said. Then, she sat up on the edge of the cushion to face her mother who sat in an arm chair across from her. “I might be vacillating on a couple of issues here, mother, but let me assure you of one thing. If anything happens to Root because of your stupid machine….”

“Sameen, I know. I am fully aware of how protective you feel about her, and she of you. I would never allow anything to happen that would endanger either one of you. I’ve told Root I will follow whatever instructions she feels are necessary to gain control of the machine and use it for whatever purpose she deems it for. I … don’t need it anymore, Sameen. It’s completed its mission for me. For that, I will always be grateful. I do think ….,” she continued and then hesitated, “… it’s powerful.”

Sameen thought that statement over before she responded. “You mean in the right hands, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Azar smiled because she knew that’s what Sameen wanted to hear. The truth was, she was relieved it was in Root’s hands because she wasn’t exactly sure what the machine was capable of - now that it was showing signs of independence.

Then, in spite of Shaw wishing nothing else would cross her mind, curiosity got the better of her.

“Who is … her father?” she asked of her half-sibling.

“Brilliant man. A scientist whom I met in Israel. I had to keep moving around, of course and stayed there for a while. He was a good man,” she said, looking at Sameen and smiling slightly. “Ayala is a lot like him,” she added, hoping that would work in her favor.

“Really? Because she seems stubborn and annoying and I’m pretty sure those are your traits,” Sameen said and it wasn’t nasty; in fact, she almost smiled.

Azar’s chest hurt with the pressure of wanting to speak the truth, but not knowing if her daughter would listen. “I … never stopped … thinking of you, Sameen.” She was testing the water and paused. She noticed Sameen’s breath quicken, but she wasn’t giving her the death glare just yet. “Please don’t take it out on Ayala.”

There! She said it. She knew she had no right to ask anything of Sameen after the hurt she caused her, but she did anyway. Her only hope now was that they would somehow connect. She believed in her heart, they could both benefit from it.

Shaw could have easily flown off the handle and reacted to this woman’s nerve asking her for any favor. But that was before … Root. As soon as Root reentered the room, an inexplicable calmness came over Sameen. She stared at Azar, never answering her.

* * *

“I’ve said this before, Root, and I truly believe it,” Azar said, as she sipped her second cup of coffee. “The machine chose you because of what it witnessed.” She meant the protectiveness between Root and her daughter.

“Seriously, I will blow it to smithereens if I have to,” Shaw repeated to make sure there was no doubt.

“If we can monitor it with our new program, I don’t think you’ll need to,” Root assured her. “But, I for one feel better knowing that.” She leaned over and kissed Shaw on the cheek. Much to Root’s pleasure, Shaw didn’t flinch.

“Sounds like a defiant child to me,” Ayala noted and it was the first thing she said all night that made sense to Shaw.

The statement caught Root’s attention. There was only _one_ person she knew who could shed light on what makes an undisciplined child tick.

The night ended and Root felt better knowing Azar had handed her full control of the machine. She noticed that Sameen seemed calm as she walked her mother and sister to the elevator. “Thanks for coming,” she said.

“I’ll be at BEAR tomorrow for a little while,” Ayala said and was letting Shaw know in case she wanted to avoid her.

“You okay with that?” Sameen turned and asked Azar.

“Yes,” Azar smiled to think of how in charge the woman was.

The elevator arrived and the women got in. No sooner had the door closed than Ayala told her mother – “She’s _not_ the boss of me. She thinks she is because she’s older and needs to be in charge.”

And at the same time, Shaw told Root; “I am _never_ eating with that woman again. Tofu! Who eats that stuff?”

Unbeknownst to anyone, and in spite of their differences, the two women sounded very much alike.


	48. Validating Feelings

Root stopped and turned to look at Sameen, who was only slightly more annoyed that her sister tried to win Bear’s affections than she was that she was a vegan. “Where … does it even come from?” she asked in sincere disgust of the main ingredient of her sister’s meal.

Just then, Isabelle walked into the entry way and bid them goodnight. As a premier chef, she enjoyed the challenge of preparing four different meals of such wide variety. But Sameen didn’t see it that way.

“I’m sorry …about … my sister,” she said sincerely.

As often was the case, Isabelle looked at Root to help her figure out what Shaw meant. Root mouthed the word ‘to-fu’ to help her understand. She was about to say that it had been no trouble and she enjoyed cooking the different dishes, but Root raised an eyebrow to convey – there were only two sides to the tofu issue – you were for it or against it.

“Ohhh,” Isabelle said to Shaw, but was looking at Root. “I’m glad I don’t have to cook that every day.” Isabelle might have sounded like she was complaining, but her face was lit up hoping she guessed the right answer.

“RIGHT?” Shaw said and nodded her head.

Isabelle had just won the bonus round. Root walked the chef to the elevator where she got on and gave Root a big thumbs up for having gotten the correct answer.

* * *

Root returned to the living room where Sameen was sitting on the couch and petting Bear. “You were such a good … boy … tonight. Yes, you were,” Shaw said in the highest voice he had ever heard. He jumped up on the couch and pushed his body next to her so he could soak in all this attention.

“You … ,” Root said, sitting next to Sameen and playing with her errant stands of hair. “Were …grace under pressure tonight.”

“Root, you can’t praise me like Bear for behaving well,” Sameen said and the dog whined his dislike of that statement … in its entirety.

“No, I mean it. I’m not talking about the tofu,” Root clarified.

“Oh,” Sameen said, thinking that was the bravest thing she had done.

“I know this is hard … with your mother. I can’t imagine what I would be like if mine walked back into my life. All the mixed feelings I would have,” Root sympathized.

“Do you …,” Sameen asked slowly because that was how she approached tough emotional questions, “… remember your mother?”

Sameen admired how Root never seemed to be thrown by any question, but rather, always seemed open to thinking about it. “No,” Root smiled. “She died when I was very young. Foster care was really all I ever knew.”

The woman with the _longest_ fuse had just answered a question from the woman with the _shortest_. And her answer made Sameen snap.

Shaw pushed poor Bear off her lap so she could turn to face Root. “I will kill anyone who harmed you. Tell me who they are. I will find them and I will kill them.” Just the mention of what Root had been through was enough to reignite the Four Alarm Fire’s anger.

There was no doubting how sincere Sameen was in that moment. Root wasn’t just feeling protected; she was feeling loved and cared for. “Oh, Sameen, you say the sweetest things,” Root gushed, but Shaw’s breathing was jagged and she was stiff as steel. “I want you to listen to me,” Root said, because she knew what was happening behind those dark eyes. “Nothing happened to me that I didn’t recover from, Sameen. And I exacted what revenge I could electronically. What I had trouble recovering from was feeling like … like I didn’t belong anywhere, to anyone,” Root said and the light started to shine off the water that collected in her eyes. “Then you came along,” she smiled and took Sameen’s hands in hers. She could feel how tense her firecracker was. “…. And I knew immediately … I belonged with you.”

Root worried her words might have been lost on Sameen because she was so tense and closed at the moment.

But they weren’t.

“ _To_ me,” Sameen responded. “You belong … _to_ me, too.”

“I do?” Root smiled, because she wanted to hear Sameen explain that more.

Usually when Sameen said sentimental things to Root, she had trouble backing it up because verbalizing her feelings was not something that came easily … or at all ... for most of her life. But this was Root and this was her feelings for Root. She took a deep breath and smiled and said …

“ _People have forgotten this truth," the fox said. "But you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose,”_ she quoted verbatim from The Little Prince. “We …,” Sameen said in a soft voice because her throat was holding back tears, “…have tamed each other. We are responsible for each other … for life.”

Root had no words – she lunged at Sameen, pulling her into her and hugging her as tears streamed down her face. The pressure of the hold was enough to push the tears out of Sameen, who couldn’t remember the last time she cried like this.

Root released her, but put her head on Sameen’s shoulder. “I love you, Sameen Shaw. I always have. I always will.”

Bear was so taken by the display of affection, that he barked his unequivocal approval.

They called the canine up on the couch so that he could be part of the hug fest until he decided he needed to get some real sleep. Shaw stayed next to Root, in her arms, as both women fell into a blissful and calm sleep.

It was the first night in a long time that Root didn’t have any nightmares.

* * *

Sameen awoke the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Root was sitting next to her now and greeted her with a warm good morning. “Hello, sleepyhead,” Root said and offered her the cup of java when she sat up against the pillows. “How are you?”

“I’m great, I slept great,” Shaw said, feeling very rested. Root leaned in and kissed Shaw’s caffeinated lip.

“I gave Isabelle the morning off,” Root said and saw the worried look on Sameen’s face.

“What … but breakfast. What … ?” Sameen asked, unable to make a complete thought because all of them about the woman not present to make her breakfast were terrible. She kept looking at the kitchen and then back at Root.

“I thought I would make you breakfast,” Root said cheerfully.

“Why?” Sameen asked and her tone described the real question which was – Why would you do this to me?

“Because I enjoy watching you eat,” Root explained the simple reason.

“But … _what_ am I going to eat?” Sameen worried out loud.

“Food, Silly,” Root said and stood up. Only then did Sameen catch a look at what Root was wearing.

“Bunny slippers?” she asked, too early in her day for anything that cute.

Root wiggled her feet to show them off. “Don’t you love them?” she asked earnestly.

“No,” Sameen responded truthfully. Then she looked over at Bear and one was hanging out of his mouth. “That looks … ridiculous,” she informed the dog who whined that he was insulted.

“No judging,” Root said as she took the cup from Sameen and pulled her up to go into the kitchen. “Now, what would you like?” Root asked, her face as bright at the sun shining through the window.

‘ _I would like Isabelle to get here and cook_ ,’ is what Sameen thought, but didn’t say,

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Root answered because she read Sameen’s concern. “I can make you ….,” Root said as she opened the large refrigerator door. “Eggs? … Toast? … waffles …?”

Sameen had grown so used to coming into the kitchen where the several choices were already laid out for her, that she was having trouble reverting to the decision making. “Yes,” she said.

“Great!” Root said and as soon as she started to search for the right pan, Shaw knew they were in trouble.

* * *

“O-KAY!” came the shout from the kitchen door. It was Daan, Bear’s trainer slash playmate. “Who upset him this early? “ he asked and his hand was on his hip, but his eyes were on Sameen. He knew exactly who was responsible.

“What?” Sameen said, trying to fake her innocent in her poorest performance to date.

“Really?” Daan said, calling her out for her action and bad acting.

“Give me a break here,” she said defensively. “I haven’t had … _real_ …coffee or _any_ breakfast.”

“What’s wrong?” Root asked, but before Daan could explain that the dog was inside unwilling to go for his walk or yoga class, Sameen answered.

“I just like it when …breakfast is all here,” she said, sweeping her arm across the kitchen island. “No decisions, just eating.”

“Oh,” Root said, biting her lip because of course Sameen would think her question was directed at her. “Is it the slipper?” she asked Daan.

“Yes,” he said and again looked right at the guilty party.

The pan that Root had placed on the stove with the fire blazing underneath it, for the yet unbroken eggs, started to smoke. A low level chaos ensured as Daan went running for the fire extinguisher and Sameen lowered her head onto the table, bereft.

“Oh,” Root said, and shut the fire off and removed the pan before Daan could shoot it and her with the extinguisher.

“Did you ever consider that your hyperactive nature is what makes him nuts?” Shaw asked because she was awake thirty minutes now and had not eaten.

“ME?” Daan asked because he was pretty sure who the negative influence here was. “I didn’t get called in by his therapist,” the man reminded her.

“Okay, Daan,” Root said, getting in between the rude man and the woman capable of killing him. “I think Bear will be fine once he gets to class and in the meantime, I am taking you out for breakfast.”

She saw the relief on Sameen’s face immediately. “Really?” she said, relieved that food was only a matter of blocks away.

“Yes,” Root smiled and Sameen left the room to get ready.

“I just saved your life,” Root mentioned to Daan to make sure he understood not to mess with her girlfriend.

“You may have just save _all_ of humanity,” he said, only walking out when Root was in front of him.

Shaw walked in and immediately could tell the canine was sulking because she had insulted his choice of chew apparel. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she looked at him and said; “Het spijt me.”

Bear immediately sat up and wagged his tail and grabbed, what he believed to be, Daan’s leash.

“Did she just apologize to him?” Daan whispered as Shaw went upstairs.

“In Dutch,” Root smiled proudly. “She’s amazing.”

* * *

While it was true that Shaw was remarkable, she was also hungry. And Root was going to learn that it was not safe to allow too much time to lapse between her lover and food. By the time they settled on a place to eat, her stomach was growling she became more intolerant. She spit back the coffee unceremoniously when it tasted bitter. She stared at the eggs as if they were still alive. She lifted the pancakes up and found their bounciness to be unsatisfactory. She pushed the plate away and scowled.

“Okay, I see where I went wrong here,” Root admitted and left two hundred dollar bills to cover the cost and the tip. “Come on,” she said, pulling Sameen up from her seat before anyone heard her dissertation on how they should have paid them to eat there, and even then, she wouldn’t have.

“Yes, I know,” Root said, trying to comfort the poor woman who had suffered witnessing tofu and no breakfast. What was she thinking!

The couple got in the waiting car. “I looked it up!” Sameen said, grabbing her phone in case Root wanted proof. “It’s …are you ready?” she asked and waited.

“Yes?” Root answered, giving the driver instructions on where to take them.

“It’s bean … _curd_ ,” Sameen said as if she just discovered the vilest thing on earth. “Do you know how they make it?” she asked, her face already foretelling the horror. “ _Coagulating_ … _soy_ … _milk_ ,” she shared and sat back waiting for Root to go into shock or worse. “I don’t know which one of those words upsets me more,” Shaw openly admitted.

Root put her hand on Shaw’s and squeezed it gently.

Minutes later, they pulled up in front of a brownstone that looked nothing like a restaurant serving breakfast.

“Where are we?” Shaw asked, getting out of the car and joining Root.

“Come on,” Root said, correcting her error in one fell swoop.

The two ascended the staircase to the front door, which was opened by middle aged, well-dressed man who greeted Root warmly.

“She said it was an emergency,” he said as he invited them in.

Shaw wasn’t listening; she was inhaling the aroma of sweet and savory scents that she was certain was swirling right above her head.

“Jack, this is Sameen Shaw,” Root made the introductions and Sameen held her hand out, but wasn’t really paying attention.

“Come in, please,” the man said, leading them down the hallway. “She’s been waiting.”

Sameen wanted to ask where they were, what they were doing there, and when they were going to eat, not necessarily in that order, when she walked into the very large kitchen. There, behind the counter in the center of the room, stood Isabelle, busy putting the finishing touches on the several plates that were set on the table.

“Sameen!” she said with glee in her voice. Shaw actually walked over and allowed the woman to hug her. They greeted each other like long lost friends.

“Oh, I really missed you,” Shaw said, taking off her jacket and sitting down at the counter.

Her husband looked at Root and laughed. “So, this is the woman my wife can’t stop talking about.”

“The one and the same,” Root smiled, watching Sameen dive into the well prepared breakfast.


	49. Writing on the Wall

Root had found, of course, the perfect antidote to Sameen’s grumpiness. The average person might have thought it had to do with food – given the woman’s affinity for it. But Root understood it to be more. It had to do with consistency and not changing something Sameen had come to rely on as a constant. It’s important to most people; but very much so, if the rug has been pulled out from under you so early in life. Root understood this all too well.

What food was doing for Shaw, Sameen’s words were doing for Root. She fell asleep and woke up repeating Sameen’s words. ‘I belong to her,’ Root repeated in her head and each time, a smile appeared on her face. The sentiment was like concrete; filling in the cracks that the feeling of not belonging had caused so long ago.

The sense of belonging, that we all crave, was solidifying in Root. She belonged to Shaw – period.

Root nibbled on homemade oatmeal and watched Sameen devour whatever was put in front of her. “I can’t believe she gave you the morning off,” Shaw said, as if someone excused the sun from rising.

When they were done, they thanked Isabelle who in turn, thanked them for coming. Her husband smiled as he walked them to the door. “So, finally, I meet the woman who has brought new life into my wife’s cooking,” he laughed. Sameen smiled, embarrassed by the compliment.

* * *

When the couple arrived at work, Shaw had thought over what had transpired between her and Root the night before. “Hey, look, you know …,” she said, turning to face Root in the elevator, “…that I meant every word I said, right?” she asked and Root said of course. “Just … quoting that book …,” Shaw coughed and Root got it.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Root smiled because Shaw was learning to balance being a romantic and still maintain a tough exterior.

“Okay, thanks,” Sameen said and was surprised when Root got off on her floor. Before she could ask though, Janine was at her side asking her if she knew that Ayala was coming there that day, and was that okay with her.

Root smiled and nodded her head, indicating in fact, it was still Sameen’s choice. Then, she walked down the hallway.

“It’s okay,” Sameen said and Janine understood, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be watching the woman like a hawk.

* * *

It was still early, and most of the staff at BEAR had not yet arrived; including Dr. Iris Campbell. She opened the door to her office, flipped on the switch and … for the second time that week – found someone already sitting on her couch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Campbell,” Root said apologetically, having startled the woman.

“Ms. Groves!” Iris said, surprised by the early break-in. She swore she locked the door last night.

“Please excuse the early intrusion and I mean that literally,” Root said because there wasn’t a lock she couldn’t pick.

“Of course,” Iris said, putting her things down. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I have some questions about something and I figured, you’re the expert,” Root said, smiling and folding her hands.

“What can I help you with?” Iris asked, putting her tea and coat down and sitting across from her visitor.

“I wanted your input on something. I think the clinical name is _Oppositional Defiant Disorder_ ,” Root said, having googled it that morning.

Iris was an expert in her field; of course she could discuss that with Root. But she was a little curious as to why Root wanted to talk about it. “Oh, well, let’s see. There are several theories about the cause of ODD or Oppositional Defiant Disorder,” Iris began.

“Yes, I read that,” Root said, sitting back. “…. I think this might be linked to a dysfunctional family,” Root shared.

“It can be,” Iris concurred. “It can also be linked to mental illness in the family.”

Now, this meant something different to the woman who was talking about wires and code. “I thought viral, but that’s not it,” Root explained.

“There have been no known studies done on viral infection causing this as far as I know,” Iris thought out loud.

“How do you fix it?” Root asked, smiling as if it were a simple question.

“Fix it? Well, because it’s behavioral in nature, there are certain things you can implement that would help. Such as a structured environment with clear expectations and consequences,” the therapist shared.

“Yes!” Root said, wondering how she missed that. “Expectations and consequences.”

“They have to be … age appropriate,” Iris added.

“Hard to say how old she is,” Root shrugged her shoulders. “I mean certainly more than twenty, not as old as forty,” she thought out loud because she was basing it on Sameen’s age.

“Are we … talking … about …,” Iris started to ask because Root had used the feminine pronoun and was suggesting the person was in their thirties. But, she couldn’t ask. It was against her code of ethics.

Root was off on another tangent, now that she figured out what she had to do. “Thank you, Doctor Campbell. This has been very helpful.”

With that, Root got up and walked out. Iris followed, and held onto the door as she checked the lock a couple of times. It still worked.

* * *

Sameen sat at her desk working on security detail for an upcoming event for Root. She was fortunate because usually her security work had to do with keeping people who liked her boss at arm’s length. Now that Root agreed to give a speech at a local women’s march, it would make Sameen’s job harder.  When she was done, she retrieved her favorite book from the drawer. 

Fusco happened to be in the building and stopped in to say hi to his friend. John had already told him that Sameen okayed her sibling to work there as a consultant. But as he approached her office, Sameen’s mind was on other things. She was flipping through the book she had quoted, in case she needed another one. She was considering how romantic Root found it.

“Hey!” Fusco said, barging in and making her jump. She shoved the book in the desk and slammed the drawer.

“What the hell, Fusco?” she yelled, but he wasn’t paying attention.

“I heard you said ….,” he started and was about to add – “i _t was okay for your sister to work here. That was really nice of you_.” But he never got the chance.

Expressing feelings was new to Sameen, and she had yet to learn that her suspicion that they somehow transformed you so that people could read you easily was unfounded. So when her friend popped in and said he heard she said something, she immediately jumped to the conclusion he knew she was reciting quotes.

“You heard I said what? What did you hear I said? It was a quote, for God’s sake. Not Shakespeare. Although I could quote that, too. I mean I remember it, you know. You don’t have to be so nosy, Fusco. What I say to Root is private. How is there no privacy in a firm that has its own security team? Can you tell me that?” she bellowed.

Fusco stared back; not really surprised, but allowing the time delay to give her words a chance to be deciphered. “I got nothing,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Good,” Shaw said, unsure of where she was in the tangle of words and feelings.

If talking wasn’t getting him anywhere, Fusco had only one more idea. “You wanna get lunch?”

“Okay,” Shaw said, and the two headed towards the cafeteria.

“Does Root want to join us?” he asked and Sameen texted her.

“She’s setting up expectations and consequences or something,” she reported back, shaking her head because she thought it was techno jargon.

“For you?” Fusco teased and made Shaw scrunch her face at his bad joke.

* * *

Once inside the massive room, Fusco stood there trying to decide what to get. “I have to eat healthy,” he said and his friend groaned. “Hey, we’re not all built like you; lead stomach and furnace metabolism that burns off calories. Where’s the salad bar?” he asked.

“The … _what_?” Shaw asked back.

“Never mind. Go get your heart attack on wheat bread and I’ll meet you back here,” he suggested.

“Wheat bread,” Shaw scoffed as she walked away. “I could do wheat bread,” she said out loud because she could do healthy as well as anyone. She approached the Parks Deli counter and placed her order. All was going as usual … the same ingredients, the same warnings, the same questions like it was the first time she ever ordered there. And then she asked … in a low voice … if the owner could put it on wheat bread. Sameen swore she heard tires screeching when the woman stopped and turned around.

“You want it on WHEAT bread?” she asked in a loud voice.

“Yes,” Sameen said, her voice low.

“Since when do you eat …. WHEAT bread?” the woman asked, believing Sameen was adding something new into their daily routine.

“Do you have it or not?” Sameen asked, annoyed.

“Oh, I have it, but I’m surprised you want it,” the woman replied.

“Just … put it on wheat,” Sameen said, not happy that she was the one upsetting the apple cart.

“Do you want mayo on it?” the woman …just had to ask.

It was prepared and wrapped before Sameen could even answer that if a tiny drop of mayo got anywhere near it, she would refuse it.

Sameen sat down in the chair as Fusco picked at his salad.

“I’m having it on wheat she said,” in case he didn’t notice.

“I hear they give medals for that,” he replied, jealous that she was eating pastrami and he was eating lettuce.

One bite and it was no good. “See, this is why you don’t change things,” she said, pushing the sandwich across the table.

“You don’t want that?” Fusco asked because he didn’t want to see it go to waste.

“No,” she said.

“You want my salad?” he asked, as he grabbed the white paper the sandwich was in and pulled it closer.

“Do you want me to shoot you right here?” Sameen asked.

“I hope Root is writing a consequence for being rude,” Fusco said, shoving the delicious tender meat into his mouth before he got into any more trouble.

* * *

Root was working on her new program upstairs, but it had nothing to do with Sameen. It did have to do with the machine and it was beginning to grasp what Root had just designed.

‘ _So it is a consequence_ ,’ it spoke to Root.

“Yes. They are a part of life and we all experience them,” Root explained.

‘ _If I initiate a sequence of events without it first being approved, I will have a consequence_ ,’ she said to Root.

“Yes,” Root affirmed.

’ _If I produce code that is not authorized then_ …,’ the machine said, testing the new restrictions, “… _I will not be able to communicate with Azar_.”

“That’s right,” Root said, hoping that the machine would see this wasn’t punishment, but rather the result of not following protocol.

‘I _understand_ ,’ the machine responded. ‘ _I do not like it; but I understand._ ’


	50. Xcite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys are terrific. Thanks for reading along and allowing me to use (steal) all the great lines the POI writers created.  
> I twist them to fit the story, but appreciate your patience as I do.

Root was feeling encouraged that her program parameters with the machine seemed to pass the testing stage. Shaw was grumpy that someone else got to eat her lunch. Lionel couldn’t have been happier. When Root caught up with them, and he explained what happened, she decided she might have an idea.

The Security team was impressed with how knowledgeable Ayala was and truth be told, Martine enjoyed being able to spend time with her during the day. When Reese asked Martine to show the department’s weapon cache to the consultant, she took her to the indoor firing range.

At one end of the range, Root was standing there getting ready to shoot the two guns she chose. “Two guns at once? Kinda lame,” Shaw mocked until she saw her girlfriend standing there, rock solid arms extended; shooting like it was nobody’s business. Then, Shaw couldn’t help but correct herself and blurt out; “Okay, that was kinda hot.” She eyed Root up and down as the woman fired her weapons with ease.

“Done!” Root smiled happily, turning to see Sameen was lost in thought somewhere around her ass.

“What?” Shaw asked and quickly regained composure. “My turn.”

Call it the combination of mind and body, because Shaw’s internal engines were on fire and she unloaded that gun faster than anyone had ever done before.

It caught the attention of everyone else in the place.

* * *

“Do you see that?” Ayala asked Martine when they looked down and saw the last station’s target with a perfect circle blown out of the center. Neither had ever seen such accurate shooting and they had seen some very good shots.

Martine looked over to see who it was and wasn’t surprised. “That would be your sister,” she said.

“Half-sister,” Ayala corrected her.

“Well, I sure hope you share the half that shoots like that,” Martine said, her admiration palpable.

* * *

In a classic case of sibling competition – the kind spurred by your new girlfriend drooling over your sister’s firing skills, Ayala walked down to where Root and Shaw were. “Not bad,” she said, knowing in her heart this woman would take the bait. She did.

“Not bad?” Shaw said, not just taking the bait, but chewing it and spitting it back out. Maybe if she had eaten, she would have taken it better. Ah, who are we kidding?

“Yeah, _not_ bad,” Ayala repeated.

Shaw exhaled sharply through her nose as she turned to look at Root, her expression all but reading – “ _Do you believe this kid_?”

“She’s the best there is,” Root said admiringly, even though she knew this was more territorial than skill.

“Well, I guess I’ll just take Ms. Groves’ word for it,” Ayala said, dangling derision in front of her sibling.

“You know what you’re doing here, right? Tell me you know what you’re doing because I’m the one who’s going to be bringing your body out of here,” Martine said because she knew Shaw was the better shot, but worried where she would be aiming. “She doesn’t miss,” and Martine meant … when aiming at bodies.

“Are you…?” Shaw said because she had been challenged plenty of times, but never by a sibling. “Are .. get your gun and prepare to be embarrassed.”

“Ready,” Ayala said.

New targets were hung and guns were loaded. Ayala shot well and damn near perfect. But perfect eluded her. It was, however, within her reach … right next to her in the adjacent booth.

It wasn't just how well Shaw shot; it was the velocity at which she discharged the weapon. Root did her signature head tilt when the targets were displayed and her girlfriend won.

“She’s the best,” Martine said and drew a look from her ‘ _two dates – and there may not be a third one’_ – love interest. “What can I say?”

“Let me know if you want lessons,” Shaw said because she was used to hanging out with guys and the trash talk came naturally. One look from Root – who wasn’t even sending her a message – made Shaw want to do better. She turned to the woman who didn’t like to lose almost as much as she didn’t, and extended her hand. “You’re … very good,” Shaw said sincerely.

“I know that,” her sibling said, annoyed she came in second.

Ayala shared a fierce sense of competition and unbeknownst to Shaw, had been competing with her older sister a long time. It was going to be, Root decided, something that would have to play itself out. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t help Shaw deal with it better.

* * *

“She is one pain in the ass. I’m glad I didn’t have that around me growing up. She’s so spoiled,” Shaw said in disgust after they left the range.

“I think you could be a very good role model for her,” Root said and knew to expect Shaw’s look of scorn as soon as she heard it. “Blood is thicker …,”

“….and concrete is thicker than that, and I could shoot through both …. Perfectly,” Shaw said, smiling at her own joke.

“Why don’t we …,” Root said in a tone that alerted Shaw she was about to be persuaded to do something she wouldn’t really like. “….get all the girls to go out tonight?”

Sameen’s idea of a night out still included shots at a sports bar. “Hey, there’s a Knicks game…,” she started, but Root tilted her head to the side and smiled waiting for Shaw to catch on. “You … you didn’t mean … ?”

“I was thinking something more fun, like a club with music and dancing and …,” Root broke it to her gently.

“And no games?” Shaw said, because she truly believed Root was leaving the best part out.

“Well, I don’t know about … _no_ games,” Root said and it didn’t take much for Sameen to remember that Root’s definition of sports was very different.

“Oh,” Shaw said, disappointed about the game, enticed that there would be … games.

“It’ll be fun,” Root said and figured a night out with everyone would be good for Shaw. “I’ll ask Martine and Ayala … if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, Root,” Shaw moaned, but couldn’t really come up with a definitive answer as to why she didn’t want her there. “Fine,” she finally said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

The group invitation went out and everyone met at the Penthouse because Sameen insisted that there be appetizers before they went out drinking. Isabelle was more than happy to have trays of hors d’oeuvres, ready and waiting.

John brought Joss and met Fusco at the apartment so they could go out and watch the game. Zoe Morgan arrived, a bottle of champagne in each hand. Martine and Ayala said they would meet them at the club.

When Sameen came down the stairs into the living room, both men turned and stared. It was rare to see the woman in a dress, especially one that left little to the imagination. Joss gave Reese the slightest kick with her shoe.

“It’s just …,” he said in his defense.

Zoe did the same to Fusco. “I know Iris would want me to do that,” she smiled.

“Oh, Zanotti’s?” Joss asked of her shoes.

“Yes, good eye,” Zoe remarked, filling their glasses.

“Where you going?” John asked and Root told him, but never took her eyes off her girlfriend.

“Hey,” Sameen said and grabbed two appetizers and pushed them in her mouth. Zoe went to hand her a glass of champagne. “Sorry girls, my system only runs on diesel,” Shaw explained and grabbed a shot of bourbon.

“You got iced tea?” Fusco asked Isabelle who said she would get it for him and John.

“You two are lucky I even hang out with you,” Shaw told them.

“Well, Shaw, I hear it’s hard to get into the place you’re going,” Reese said, setting it up for Fusco.

“Yeah, so you’ll need to use your charm, not your sidearm,” Fusco bantered.

“I hope that won’t be a problem,” John teased.

Root watched the men play with their favorite friend, but would only let it go so far.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Shaw asked. “I don’t look good? Because I think I look good.”

“You look fine, Shaw,” John said slowly. “You just look _angry_ all the time.”

Sameen looked at him hard – proving his point.

“We’ll work on that in the car,” Joss suggested, knowing the boys were the reason for Shaw’s expression.

“I think you look perfect,” Root said, taking her hand and giving Sameen the opportunity to say – ‘There!’ to her two cohorts.

Food was consumed, glasses were emptied, and the group got ready to go.

“Hey, Shaw,” Fusco said in a low serious voice. “You text me, if you need me okay?”

He knew her sister was going to be there and he always liked to offer his assistance in case Shaw was going to do something that might require the NYPD to be called.

“Sure,” she said, and gave him a loving punch in the arm.

“Ouch!” he said, holding the injured area.

* * *

The foursome arrived at the club and entered. Their easy entry had nothing to do with Shaw’s charm, or firearm. Having Samantha Groves in their midst was always good for business. They entered and found Martine and Ayala already at the table.

“We just had to mention your name,” Martine said over the loud music, and waved the waiter over for drinks.

It was the beginning of a long night where the women were going to drink and dance and enjoy themselves.

Until, of course, shots were fired.


	51. Yielding to Greatness

Root watched and enjoyed her girlfriend do something she rarely saw her do in public; relax. And not only was Sameen at ease in the surroundings, she was engaging. Of course, it was hard not to be when surrounded by such charming women.

“I wish Iris would have joined us,” Zoe yelled above the music after they all returned from dancing. “I really think under that pastel suit, beats the heart of a wild woman.”

Joss just shook her head at Zoe, but it was Sameen who stared at her. “Who’s Iris?” Ayala asked Martine, who explained it was the company shrink and Lionel’s girlfriend.

“I think Iris is too mature for this crowd,” Joss said and they all clinked their glasses in unison and started chanting …”Girls’ night, Girl’s night,” and breaking into laughter.

True to her nature, Root sat right next to Sameen, playfully touching the stray hairs that adorned her gorgeous face.

“I don’t know how that doesn’t bother you. I would have to cut them off,” Martine admitted of the hair that always seemed to be in Sameen’s face.

“Gives her something to do,” Sameen teased of her partner’s affinity for playing with them.

“Sameen is all about giving _me_ something to do,” Root said lovingly and the table erupted into ‘oh’s and ah’s’. Only Root could say something like that without upsetting Sameen, who warned them their jealousy was showing.

“You’re so together. I hate you, Shaw,” Zoe said, downing her glass of champagne. “One alpha female to another, I mean.” The statement was said with such affection and everyone knew it.

“Everybody hates Shaw,” Martine openly admitted and then decided to clarify for her sibling’s sake. “She just doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She does her own thing all the time.”

“Well, I don’t hate her,” Joss said and Sameen shouted thank you across the table. “Although I do wish you’d take Fusco off my hands more often,” she added and they laughed.

“Hey, I have my hands on Fusco a lot of times,” Shaw said, her mouth too quick for her thoughts because it came out wrong. Now the group got louder as they teased Sameen about having Fusco.

“I’m telling Iris you’re handling her man,” Zoe teased. Then she turned to Ayala, who was sitting there and taking in the shenanigans. “Did you know your sister had her hands all over Lionel?”

But before Ayala could say anything, it was Martine who blurted out – “Who wouldn’t want to be handled by Shaw?” She had had just enough alcohol to loosen her lips to admit that. Now, the women lost it in hysterics as Martine tried to backtrack and say it was a universal feeling because of Shaw’s charisma. There was only one woman taken aback by her admission and it wasn’t Shaw. Martine would spend the rest of the night trying to assure Ayala; she meant she liked Shaw, but not liked-liked Shaw. Ayala could have been harder on Martine’s faux pas, but after being with her sibling, she had to admit – she could see what people saw in Shaw.

“I better keep my eye on you, with all this openly affectionate attention, Sweetie,” Root whispered in Shaw’s ear. “And when I say _eye_ , I mean my _hands_ , too,” she cooed and ran her hand up Shaw’s leg under the table.

Never one to miss a trick, Zoe yelled out – “Get a room, you two,” and the laughter started all over.

* * *

Joss was being vigilant about how much she drank, having appointed herself the designated adult for the evening. Perhaps this is why she suddenly became aware of a change in the crowd. She couldn’t explain it at first, but something seemed different in the room. The music still blared, the crowd was still dancing, but the energy seemed oddly different.

“Is it always this crowded?” Ayala asked because it seemed to take the waiter forever to come back.

“What do you want?” Sameen asked and scooted out of the large booth and said she’d get it.

“Get a bottle,” Zoe said and Sameen saluted them and set out on her mission.

Ayala watched Root’s eyes follow Sameen to the bar. “It’s like she doesn’t see or hear anything else,” she whispered to Martine because Zoe was asking Root something and she was completely unaware.

“Oh, yeah, those two have it real bad,” Martine said because everyone knew that. “I’ve never seen two people who are better matched.”

“Really?” Ayala said … slightly insulted for the second time that night. “Can my sister do no wrong?” she asked only half kidding.

“Well,” Martine said, trying to think of something to make her date feel better. “She’s got a temper.”

“Really?” Joss said, “That’s what you picked? You are one sucky date, Martine,” she added and they all laughed.

* * *

Shaw approached the bar and took in stride the stares from the mostly male crowd that was crowded there. Men parted to allow her to get to the bartender and order the bottle and then began asking if they could join her and her friends. “No,” Sameen answered to be polite.

At that hour of the night, it was a pretty safe bet that most of the patrons had been drinking for hours. One of them stepped in Shaw’s way as she was about to return.

“You don’t want to do that,” she warned him and the men all joined in.

“Get out of her way,” a few of the smarter ones told him.

“I just want to talk,” the insistent idiot said. “Now, who are you, pretty lady?”

“Ordinarily, I’d be the girl kicking your sorry ass, but I’m bringing this bottle back to my friends,” she said looking right up into his face,” … and I don’t want to spill any.”

He had challenged her and she had countered. He erroneously thought it was his move. His hand went to touch her arm and before it did, Sameen grabbed his and twisted it so forcefully, he yelled out in pain. “Lesson learned?” she asked.

“Yes,” he cried.

“Good,” Sameen said, releasing him and walking away … without spilling a drop.

“You better never get fresh with her,” Zoe teased Root.

“Actually, she never does that when I get fresh with her,” Root smiled, proud of how well Sameen could handle a situation.

Root got up to let Sameen sit down, when they noticed the man coming over for more. Root was more than capable of deterring him, but found the youngest woman at the table got ahold of him first. “Don’t come near her again,” Ayala threatened. There was nothing friendly in her look or tone, and the man finally decided to give up.

“Way to protect your sister,” Martine said, giving Ayala a high five that was not reciprocated. The younger woman had not planned on doing that and wasn’t sure how pleased she was that her instincts took over.

Root even waited to see what Sameen’s response was going to be.

“You’re okay, kid,” Shaw said probably because the liquor was loosening her up a bit.

“I’m not braiding your hair,” Ayala spat, not wanting to be all warm and fuzzy about it. The one person who should have understood that deflection … didn’t.

“See?” Shaw said to Root as in – _why do I bother_?

Zoe didn’t want anything to spoil the mood, especially a sibling squabble. So, she poured more champagne and teased Root that she was always going to drop her name when she came there. It worked and everyone went back to enjoying themselves.

But in spite of the additional drinks, dancing and joking, Joss couldn’t ignore the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. “I’m going to take a look around,” she finally said and everyone kidded her that she was off duty. “Anyone packing?” she asked because she knew better with this crowd.

“I am,” Shaw said and Ayala and Martine echoed it.

“Me, too,” Zoe said and produced a pink Taser. “A friendly gift from John. Before you,” she added quickly looking at Joss.

“They come in pink?” Root asked amazed.

“Never mind,” Shaw said to her, not wanting her to have one of those things.

“It may be nothing,” Joss said as she slipped out of the booth and walked around.

“Once a cop, always a cop,” Martine said of their friend who was never really off duty. “I’m going to see if she needs help.”

“I’ll come,” Ayala said, and joined Martine as Joss circled the place.

* * *

This left Zoe alone with Root and Shaw. “So, when are you two going to get married?” she smiled.

“Can I see that Taser?” Shaw asked, but Zoe knew better than to give it to her.

“We’ll know when the moment is right,” Root said to Shaw, not caring if their friend overheard.

It was too big a topic for Shaw to deal with … coming at her from someone other than Root.  “Shouldn’t we be working on getting you someone?” Sameen countered.

“Nah,” Zoe said looking down at her drink. “I can’t settle down, not my style. I’m resigned to playing the field. I mean, I’m good at it.”

A few minutes later, Joss rounded the corner with her posse behind her. “Well, I guess I’m just getting a little too cautious in my old age,” she teased as they went to sit back down. She found nothing out of the ordinary as she walked around the club.

That was because it had just entered the front door … and was headed straight towards them. The last woman to get in the booth was Ayala - the _other_ short, dark haired, dark eyed woman … wearing a tight black dress.

The armed friend of the man whose arm prevented him from aiming a gun, aimed at the woman who bore the description of his assailant.

He aimed, shot – and hit Ayala.

* * *

Across town, at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel on the top floor, a computer screen started to blink. Azar was sound asleep until she heard the beeping. She grabbed her phone. 

_'They need us_ ,’ the definite female voice said on the other end.


	52. Zero Tolerance

The thing about military training is you never forget it; no matter how long you’re out of the services. They drill things so intensely that it becomes, not only part of your core, but also part of you muscle memory. You do things so many times, that your brain does not need to stop and think what your arms should be doing – they’re already doing it.

Joss was a highly trained, highly decorated detective who had the wherewithal to sense something was going on in the club before that shot. But she didn’t have the love of her life sitting next to her; in close proximity to the deranged gunman.

But Shaw did.

So, while Joss was reaching for her gun, Shaw had pulled Root down into the seat, pushed her hand into her pocketbook … and shot. She didn’t bother taking the gun out of the bag. She had too many things to attend to.

Now, that she had protected her woman, she was going to doctor her sister.

A good woman does both.

“Are you okay?” she said to Root and waited until Root assured her she was. She then climbed over the table to kneel in front of Ayala, pressing the linen napkin onto the wound.

“She’s hit here,” Joss said because she saw the impact the bullet had on the woman. He had hit her inches above her heart.  
Joss had been holding onto Ayala, so it was up to Root to dial 911. But when she grabbed her phone, the voice on the other end told her they were already outside. And … it was … a very familiar voice.

EMT’s rushed in and took over as Shaw gave them an injury report in great detail. Joss was now able to get out of the booth and handcuff the suspect who was reeling in agony from his gunshot wounds. Joss looked at Root. “She shot him in three different places,” she said amazed that someone could get three shots off that quickly. Then, she looked around to see if anyone else had been hit. They were three clean shots.

Root was next to Shaw now as the EMT’s put Ayala on a stretcher. “I’m going with her,” Shaw said to the attendant.

_“We’re_ … going with her,” Root said and took Shaw’s hand.

Before they got to the exit, Reese and Fusco were there; arriving seconds before the cops. In all, everyone was there within seconds because everyone had been alerted as soon as the gunman approached the premises.

“For guardian angles, you two are a little late to the party,” Shaw said, which both men translated as ‘thank you.’

“She got family here?” the EMT asked as they started to wheel Ayala out.

Root waited patiently for Sameen to catch on that she was the one who should answer. “Yeah,” she finally said. “We are.” She took Root by the hand.

* * *

“I’ll take care of the statements,” Joss said and assured the officers everyone would cooperate.

“How did you guys get here so fast?” Joss asked and Fusco and Reese said they received texts minutes before. “From whom?” the smart detective wanted to know.

“Mine was from you,” Reese said, showing her his phone.

“I got mine from Shaw,” Fusco said and Joss knew that couldn’t be true because Sameen hadn’t taken her phone out once.

“You were thirty minutes away,” Joss said and then looked at the timestamp of the texts. The guy wasn’t even in the club, and yet, the text contained a full description of him.

“Are there cameras in here?” John asked.

“No,” Joss answered. “One of the reasons it gets such high clientele.”

John looked at his phone. “This wasn’t from you?” he asked and Joss shook her head. He had an idea of what might have caused this. “You got this?” he asked and she asked if he meant her crime scene? “Oh, yes,” he said, because of course she would have jurisdiction.

“Still working out who’s in charge?” Lionel asked, when Reese said he wanted to follow up with Shaw.

“No, we both know it’s me,” Joss said smiling.

“Okay, cops want to ask you for your official take on what happened,” Fusco informed his partner.

“ _Fastest gun in the East_ is what happened. She shot him three times before I drew my weapon, Fusco. Am I getting old?” Joss asked.

“Nah, no one outdraws Shaw,” he assured her.

* * *

And no one gave orders quite like her either.

As they rode over in the ambulance, she shouted directions at the EMT as if she were in charge. “Don’t I know you?” he asked, pulling back for a second. “Aren’t you that crazy women ….yes, you are!” he said in horror.

“Don’t worry about who I am, okay?” Shaw said, pulling him in closer. “Just take care of her.” Shaw pushed him back to the patient. He slowly reached for his communicator on his shoulder, but Shaw ripped it off before he could.

“I shot the guy who will be in the next ambiance. Three times,” she said slowly. “Once to his shoulder which shattered the rotator cuff; once to his hand causing permanent nerve damage, and one to his right knee cap, because, I’m sorta required to only hit kneecaps,” she explained.

“Only?” he asked nervously. “Then, what about the other two shots?”

“He got the family discount. Now, focus on her and don’t worry about calling ahead.”

There wasn’t a person at the Emergency Room who forgot who Sameen Shaw was and the Chief Resident told Root in no uncertain terms, she was in charge of that woman.

Because of the type of gun the perpetrator used, the hole in Ayala was ragged and she lost a lot of blood. When they asked what relation Sameen was and she informed them a sibling, they proceeded to ask her a great deal of questions. “We’re not … close,” Shaw said in response to more than one question she didn’t know. “How would I know? The kid was a complete shock to me,” she answered to another.

Then, her phone rang. “Here’s her mother,” she said, handing the phone over to the attending.

There was nothing about this situation that Sameen liked; from her sister being injured to the realization that she knew so little about her.

Azar answered all of their questions and a copy of the woman’s medical history was faxed over to them. Given her own medical situation, she was not allowed to come to the ER.

“She wants to talk to you,” the attending doctor said.

Azar gently asked Sameen if she would stay with Ayala especially since she could not go. Her treatment for TB was progressing well, but she was not allowed anywhere where people’s immune systems were compromised. “Of course I’ll stay,” Sameen said, trying not to be insulted.

Root was next to Sameen as they waited for the doctor’s update. Martine arrived with the rest of the group; each offering to do whatever was needed.

“If she needs blood, Shaw, you can’t give it,” Fusco informed the woman who had dengue fever.

“I can,” Root volunteered.

“Me, too,” Martine said.

“Can we wait to see if …,” Shaw was suggesting when the doctor returned and said they were going to prep her sister for surgery.

“If she needs blood,” several people said and the doctor said he would send out a technician.

“Are you okay, Sweetie?” Root said, taking her hands into hers and looking right at Shaw.

“It’s all my…,” Sameen was about to say, but Root wouldn’t let her. “You listen to me, Sameen Shaw. You had no idea that guy was going to call one of his henchmen. It won’t help Ayala for you to blame yourself,” Root said, in the sternest voice she had ever used with Sameen.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, the first time she could recall feeling intimidated by something Root said.

Then, she watched as her friends lined up to donate blood. “Hey, if she gets my blood, you know she won’t be vegan anymore,” Fusco said and it was the first time the scowl came off of Shaw’s face.

Each time the doctor came to give an update, Root got on the phone with Azar and shared the information. Shaw would corner him and ask detailed question until he finally asked if she was a doctor.

“A long time ago,” she said and he offered her whatever professional courtesy he could.

“Then, you know how serious this is,” he said, one doctor to another.

“Yes,” Shaw said.

* * *

Reese and Joss went and got food and coffee for the long wait. Shaw paced the floor and then sat down by Root. “She’s in the best hands,” Root said to Sameen who nodded. There wasn’t a phone call that wasn’t made by Root to get her the best possible care. “Thank you,” Sameen said.

Hours passed, and the group greeted the sunrise together. The doctors finally emerged and updated Sameen and Root.

“She’s going to be okay. Bullet hit the …,” he went to explain and Shaw told him she knew exactly where it was, but wanted to know if he got it all.

“Yes,” he assured her and said with bed rest, he expected her to make a full recovery.

Sameen thanked him and went to tell the rest of the group. “She’s asking for you,” he said to Sameen, who was surprised.

“Me?” Sameen asked, just to be sure.

“You are her sister, right?” the doctor verified.

Shaw confirmed that she was and went to follow him. “Are you the one they call, Root?” he asked. “She wants you, too.”

“Hardly conscious and already making demands. She gets that from my mother,” Shaw explained to Root.

* * *

The two women walked into the quiet room where the patient lie, hooked up to tubes and machines. Root noticed Sameen hesitated at the foot of the bed, so she went first, taking Ayala’s hand in hers. “Hi, kiddo, how are you?” she asked gently.

Sameen smiled to think _of course_ Root would know what to do.

“This … sucks,” Ayala said, her voice raspy. “Is Shaw here…?”

“I’m here,” Shaw said, closer, but not yet as close as Root was. “Hey, kid, life sucks, welcome to the human race. Good news is you’re not alone,” Shaw proffered, looking around the room.

“Not exactly Hallmark,” Root noted, and smiled.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Ayala said, her throat very dry from the incubation tube. “I’m really groggy from the pain meds.”

“We can come back,” Shaw said, part of her wishing she could leave.

“No, listen … you have to talk to Azar, ok? I mean, you’ll tell her I’m okay, right?” the younger woman asked.

Root gently moved back so that Sameen could get closer. “Yeah, we’ve been talking to her. She can’t come…”

“Yeah, I know, it’s okay. Look, Shaw … I’m sorry,” Ayala said, the drowsiness pulling at her hard.

“For what?” Shaw said, and moved and few inches towards the patient.

“For hating you all these years,” the younger woman said truthfully.

“Okay, well we can play true confessions when you get out, okay?” Shaw said, not liking where this was going.

“I really hated her,” Ayala said to the other woman she wanted to apologize to. “You would think it would be hard to hate someone you don’t know, but I did know her. I knew everything about her. Where she went to school, how well she did, how she wanted to be doctor, how she became a doctor, the marines …,” the patient gasped unable to say everything.

“That must have been hard,” Root said and Sameen was a little surprised she wasn’t saying it to her.

“It shouldn’t have been,” Ayala confessed. “I should have been able to look up to her for the kickass role model she was. But Azar was hurting, and I knew it. And there was nothing I could do.”

“Hey, look, I’m sorry, okay?” Shaw said, not wanting to feel guilty over this.

“Please, Root, tell her it’s not her fault. It was mine. Even Azar didn’t mean it. She was grieving the loss of her older child,” Ayala said.

“Okay, we … we get it, okay?” Shaw said, wishing the meds would take over and render her sister unconscious.

Root reached her hand out to Shaw to gently pull her closer so her sister could see her.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Ayala said and it was too much for Sameen, who felt like she should have prevented the shooting.

“Look, if I hadn’t started up with that jerk, none of this would have happened,” Sameen admitted.

Root watched as a smile came over the drugged woman’s face. “He had nothing to do with that man. He came … for me,” she said and fell under the spell of modern pain medicine.

Sameen looked at Root. “What the hell does that mean?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, Sweetie,” Root answered truthfully.

“Even unconscious, my family is a pain in the ass,” Shaw concluded.

* * *

With her sister sound asleep, Sameen and Root returned to the waiting area to ask Joss and Fusco to find out all they could about the gunman.

“Are you sure?” Fusco said into his phone when he called his contact. “Okay, thanks.” He looked over at Shaw. “He was a hired gun. Nothing to do with the man you were with.”

“Where is he?” Shaw asked, certain he would have been brought in to the ER last night.

“They can’t find him. Whoever took him in the ambulance didn’t bring him here,” Fusco said.


	53. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Shaw called her mother later that morning again to update her. She watched as Martine went inside with her sister, a large bouquet of flowers in her hand; which surprisingly to Sameen, her sister seemed to like. “No, she’s okay,” Shaw assured Azar. “I spoke with the doctors before and she came through fine.” Sameen wanted to ask what the hell was going on with her sister, but didn’t.

Root came back to Sameen with a cup of coffee. “Oh, thank you,” she said, because she decided the hospital coffee was a health code violation.

“Fusco said that the ambulance that took out the gunman looked very official, but apparently was there just to take him away. They found the ambulance and the cop inside it somewhere near the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. He was drugged, but unharmed. No other clues.”

“Well, our gunman wasn’t unharmed, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to need to get him medical attention,” Shaw confirmed.

The doctor was passing by when Sameen realized she hadn’t asked a very important question. “Hey, doc,” she called out. “Did my … did the patient need blood?” she coughed.

“Yes, during the surgery,” she confirmed.

“Really?” Shaw asked with intense interest. “You don’t happen to know … who the donor was?”

“We can’t tell you that,” she started to say when Sameen played her ‘ _Used to be an MD '_ card. “It’s just for my own … curiosity.”

The doctor said she would check because, as in most professions, you extend a hand to those in your group.

“Why do you want to know?” Root asked.

“Didn’t you get bagels?” Shaw asked, starving now.

“I got something better. Now, why do you want to know?” asked the very astute tech genius girlfriend who knew when Sameen was evading a question.

“Think about it, Root. If by some miracle, the new blood somehow influenced her… think of the possibilities. If it’s Martine’s blood, she’ll be less annoying. If it’s Reese’s blood, she’ll shut up. If it’s Fusco’s blood, she’ll be begging for steak before she can get out of that bed.” The glean in Shaw’s eyes was evident.

“And if it’s my blood?” Root asked.

Sameen turned to her. “Then, she’ll actually be smarter than I am. I hope it’s not yours,” Shaw decided.

“Doctor Shaw?” someone said and Root watched as Sameen remained oblivious to it. “Doctor Shaw?” they called again and this time, Root nudged her. “What? Oh, yeah,” Sameen said, uncomfortable with moniker that she hadn’t heard in years.

“You asked Dr. Martin about the blood that was used? The donor was …. ,” and she whispered it to Sameen.

“YES!” Shaw said and then when she saw the disapproving expression from the doctor at the outburst of confidential information, she added: “They’re so …healthy. You know.”

Root broke out in a large smile to think the answer had pleased Sameen. Shaw came back and sat down next to Root. “Well, she’s not going to be any smarter.” Root knew Sameen understood that there was no possible effect from the donation, but she really seemed to be enjoying the fantasy.

* * *

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” came the booming voice from the nurses’ station. “I _NEED_ TO SEE SAMEEN SHAW!”

This would have been odd enough, but it was echoed by another person who pushed a nurse out of her way and said, she too, had to see Sameen Shaw.

“Hey, Maybelline,” Fusco said, looking down the hallway at the commotion. “Your fan club is here. And this time they brought the carriage.”

As if it wasn’t circus enough with the two women pushing their way down the hall, one was followed by a man pulling a container on wheels.  Sameen groaned when she saw who the first woman was; she expected it to be Janine. But she was a little surprised by Isabelle’s appearance. And the cart that followed her.

“I came as soon as I heard,” both women said in unison. Only one of them had been woken up at six and asked to prepare Sameen her favorite breakfast.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Janine asked, reaching Sameen first and kneeling in front of her. Her hands clawed at Sameen as she checked to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

“Root?” Sameen said, through gritted teeth.

“She’s fine, Janine, really,” Root tried, but the woman had to touch for herself.

“Oh, thank God. How is Ayala?” she asked next.

“Good, except for the gunshot,” Sameen said.

“Please let her eat, dear,” Isabelle said as she brought over a tray of Sameen’s favorite foods.

“Oh, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Sameen gushed as the man who had wheeled the meals in, helped distribute plates to everyone.

Root cleared her throat, having noticed that the extra attention to Isabelle was immobilizing her adoring assistant.

“And you … are … so … kind … to come,” Shaw said, and it was truly a guess.

“Of course!” Janine said, grateful for the recognition. Only then, did the woman rise and take a seat near Sameen. “What can I do? Do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to go to see how Azar is?”

There was a great idea!

“Yes! Yes!” Sameen said, both to Janine’s suggestion and the mouthful of real food. “Oh, gawd, Root, try this..,” Shaw said, holding a forkful of the most delicious omelet she had in days. Okay, hours.

Root readily accepted it and smiled when Shaw asked if this was all her idea. Of course, it was. Who else would think to have their personal chef show up at the hospital?

Janine said she would check in on Azar and report back. She was off in a flash.

* * *

Suddenly, Fusco jumped to his feet as he spotted his Captain coming towards them. “Ma’am,” he said, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

“Fusco,” the uniformed woman said and then greeted Sameen. She spoke to her briefly about how Ayala was doing and then reminded her that they would need to speak to her as soon as she was able.

“She knows Detectives Fusco and Carter, so maybe they could do it,” Shaw suggested. Her part time work for the NYPD afforded her some privileges, too, with the high ranking officer. She informed Fusco that Carter was on her way and they would conduct the interview as soon as possible.

Martine came out when the doctors said they had to change the bandage.

“That’s gonna hurt like hell,” Sameen said, aware of the discomfort that often came after these types of operations. Root watched as she put down her food – (take that in) – and went into her sister’s room.

One look at Ayala’s face told Sameen of the pain level. “When is she due for more pain meds?” she asked and it wasn’t for another ten minutes.

“I don’t need ….,” Ayala attempted to say, but the pain weighed down on her.

“Hey, you know what I used to do … you know when I had a gunshot wound? Once, I had to remove the bullet myself,” Shaw said, and looked off into empty space, her expression all but reading – ‘ _Those were the days_.’

“You … removed … the bullet … yourself?” the doctor asked in horror.

“Of course she did,” Ayala said, before she grimaced in pain.

“Anyway, the point …,” Sameen said, because she had one and she was going to share it, “… was that it helped if I was distracted.”

“The bullet … wasn’t enough distraction?” Ayala asked.

“After I took it out. When the pain was unbearable. It helped if I could be distracted,” Shaw repeated because she was in a generous mood. “I poured liquor ..never mind.”

“Well, if you going to distract her, _now_ would be the time,” the doctor suggested because she was about to take the bandage off the wound.

Shaw had to think fast. She had to think of something that would take her sibling’s mind off the inevitable pain.

“Hey! You got Fusco’s blood. You’re probably not a vegan anymore,” she said.

“Bullshit!” Ayala yelled.

“About the blood or about not being vegan?” Shaw quipped.

“How did I get … ?” Ayala asked suspiciously.

“He drew the short straw, so yeah, he had to give his blood,” Shaw explained calmly. “You’ll probably experience some odd side effects,” she went on and Ayala couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “Excessive whining, immature responses, increased ego…,” Shaw shared. “Oh yeah, and a desire to see your cholesterol levels go through the roof.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t _your_ blood?” Ayala teased back through the pain.

“Funny, but no. I got dengue fever a few months back, so I couldn’t give you any,” Shaw explained.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Ayala asked, now that Shaw really did have her attention.

“Africa. I was interviewing with Root and she took me there for some on the job training,” Shaw summed up.

The doctor completed the dressing change and Ayala lay back trying to breathe through the pain. “So, Fusco and Joss are going to come in and ask you questions, okay?”

“I’m not going to tell them,” Ayala said and it was so pleasant a tone that Sameen almost missed how defiant it was.

“Okay, good …wait, what?” she asked.

“I know who sent him. I’ll take care of it,” the younger sibling said.

“Okay … no,” Shaw began and wished Root was there. “Hold … just wait there,” she said as if the woman could get up on her own. Sameen went outside and crooked her finger to Root to come.

“Can we ask her …,” Fusco was asking, but Shaw told him he had to wait.

“Talk to her,” Shaw whispered to Root and indicated she wanted Root to go in the room with Ayala.

“What … do you want me to talk to her about?” Root asked for clarification.

“Talk ..some sense into her,” Shaw said, still waving her hand for Root to go forward.

“Let’s see,” Root said going inside, ahead of Sameen.

“Go ahead,” Sameen said to Root, now pointing at her sister in case there was any question who she meant.

“Ayala, Sameen tells me ….,” Root said, hoping the patient would fill in the blank.

“I’m not telling your detective friends who that man was, or what he wanted,” Ayala said definitely. “You’ll never find him,” she warned.

“The detectives will want to question you,” Root began her dissertation. “Don’t you want to catch this guy? I mean, are you worried he’ll send someone else?”

“He will, don’t worry. They’re very determined,” she explained.

“They? They who?” Shaw said from the bottom of the bed, getting agitated. “Tell Root or I swear to God, I’ll have them put beef broth in your IV.”

Root took a second out to tilt her head to the side and give Sameen that half smile that told her to be patient.

“I’ll take care of this!” Ayala declared emphatically.

“Geezus, you are so freaking stubborn,” Shaw barked.

“This isn’t helping anyone,” Root said, looking at the younger woman in the bed whose pain was increasing from her movements. “Given your present condition, perhaps you would consider allowing Sameen and me to help you … with … whoever he is.Unless, you want to be a sitting duck.”

Calmness prevailed and Ayala actually thought it over. Root was right; she was pretty vulnerable where she was. “I guess …,” she started to say when the doctor walked in and injected her pain med into the IV port. Ayala waited for the doctor to leave.

“Who was that man?” Root asked to keep the woman focused.

Ayala was already smiling, the relief from the pain decreasing surging through her body.

“It would help to know who he was,” Shaw repeated, impatiently.

The medicine was taking effect and the woman became drowsier. She needed her rest and gave into the sleep, but not before sharing the answer.

“My ex-husband,” she said before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I alphabetized the chapters thinking I'd get the job done in 26.  
> Then, started over again and thought ... surely 52 will do the job.  
> Thank you for hanging in there for round 3.


	54. Badassery

Ayala succumbed to the pain meds just after dropping that bomb of information.

“Her .. _ex_ … _husband_?” Shaw asked slowly. “Her.. _ex_ … _husband_?” she repeated louder.

Root was frowning, already trying to put the pieces together.

“I shot her _ex-husband_?” Shaw asked the next reasonable question.

“It would seem so,” Root said, her logical right brain trying figure it out. “We .. should get to …,” and she was going to say the machine, but Shaw wanted Azar.

“Yes, and I swear … I will …. I will …..,” but Shaw found it hard to choose which of the many revenges came to mind. She stormed out of the room, Root at her heels, telling her that she thought they should think this through first.

* * *

“ _Shaw Junior_ ready to talk?” Fusco asked, having given that joke a lot of thought.

“Not funny, Fusco!” Shaw barked and poked his arm.

“I’m glad my shield does not intimidate you at all,” he said, holding the stung area.

“I told you it wasn’t funny,” Joss said to her partner because he had shared it with her before.

Sameen leaned in and grabbed his lapel. “When she wakes up, squeeze her, Fusco. And if she refuses to answer, arrest her!”

“You want I should arrest … your sister …. While she’s recovering from a gunshot wound?” Lionel asked.

“You got cuffs on you, right? Cuff her to the bed!” Shaw barked as if she were his boss…which most days, both of them believed.

“Actually, I gave mine to the cop last night,” Lionel confessed when he went to reach for them.

“We’ll persuade her to talk,” Joss assured Sameen. “Lionel here can be very charming. Isn’t that right, Lionel?”

“See? I never know if you’re being serious or making fun,” Fusco complained.

“Is she asleep?” Martine asked because she wanted to go back in.

“Yeah, she’s in la-la land,” Shaw said annoyed. Then, she realized that she didn’t want to be the bearer of good news about the ex-husband. “You might…,” she started, feeling caught.

“You okay, Shaw?” Martine asked.

“Oh, hell,” Shaw said, “… you might want to ask her about her prior relationships. You know, if any of them had anger issues … and carries a gun.”

“What?” Martine asked, unable to put that together. “Is Ayala in trouble?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shaw said, on a whole different track. “That girl is in serious trouble. I’m going to her mother right now!” Then, realizing she left her breakfast there, mid-bite to help her sister, Shaw wailed about the injustice of it all. “See, Root? It doesn’t pay to be nice. Now, my breakfast is cold …,” she complained, but then saw that Isabelle had kept it on a hot plate and was waiting for her return. “Oh…,but we have to ….,” Shaw pointed to the door because she thought they were going to see her mother.

“I have an idea,” Root said, grabbing her laptop and pulling Sameen to sit down so she could resume eating. “I would never take you to see that woman on anything less than a full stomach,” she teased.

* * *

Shaw tried to say that she was so annoyed at her family, but even Root couldn’t understand her with her mouth full of delicious waffles and sausage.

Just then, Ayala’s doctor came out to update Shaw and couldn’t help but notice the high caloric, high cholesterol laden dish. She also couldn’t help hear how Sameen moaned how delicious it was. “Do you … eat like that all the time?” the doctor asked, wondering where in the entire building she managed to get such a meal.

Shaw could feel the accusatory tone in the doctor’s voice. Her head shook no, but her lips said. “Maybe?”

“Well, I can’t endorse it, in spite of how good it looks, but I am guessing you work out pretty intensely to keep the weight off,” the doctor mused.

“Oh, she does,” Root said and smiled coyly, and Shaw could only close her eyes and shake her head.

“ _Really_?” Sameen said to Root.

“Yes, really …we do,” Root said, because she loved inside jokes that everyone got.

The doctor got back on track and said Ayala was doing well and could be released later that day. Shaw thanked her and went back to eating. “Whaddayoudoin?” she asked Root, who was furiously typing something on her laptop.

“I think I know who can fill us in on your sister’s past,” Root said in a low voice.

“Yeah, my crazy mother. I should just get Janine to ask her ….,” Shaw thought out loud.

Root was several steps ahead of her. “Done!” she declared and turned the screen towards Sameen.

“What is this …,” Shaw said, wiping her mouth and taking a closer look. There, on the screen, was a history dossier on Ayala Morin. It included her date of birth, her family history, her education stats, her Israeli Army dates of service …. And her marriage and divorce from one …. _Raphael Dubois._

And with _all_ that information, the most surprising to Root was that the marriage lasted only a few weeks.

That’s not; however, what caught Sameen’s attention.

Not even close.

“Are you telling me she’s ….,” Shaw said looking Root square in the eye hoping she got it wrong, “…that’s she’s … _eleven_ years …. That I’m … _eleven_ years …older that she is?”

“Hmm,” Root said, looking back at the screen. “Yes, that’s about right.”

“ _Eleven_?” Shaw asked incredulously because she hadn’t given it much thought, but figured …five, six at most.

“Did you notice his name?” Root asked, trying to get her girlfriend back on track.

Shaw looked at it as Root pointed it out. “He was French?”

“Well, I think he still _is_. You might have shot a few things, but I doubt you removed that,” Root smiled and Shaw just stared back. “He’s sorta part of an underground group here called the Noblemen, which is odd because there’s nothing noble about their work,” Root pointed out the irony.

“How does this help us? Eleven years?” Shaw asked. Root tapped some more keys.

“Yes, I know,” she said to no one and Shaw looked at her.

“Are you .. talking to … ?” Shaw asked because she had the distinct impression she wasn’t talking to her.

“Yes, I figured we could access the City’s cameras and toll booths to see if we could trace them,” Root said.

“Did you ever want to be a detective when you were little?” Shaw asked out of curiosity.

“No, ballerina,” Root said with a straight face. “And a kickass tech genius. Well, what do you know; there was a break-in at a hospital in Brooklyn. Five pints of blood and narcotics.”

“Sounds like it could be our French gunman,” Shaw said.

* * *

From the hospital cameras, Root traced a black sedan that entered and exited around the time of the theft. A search of various street cameras gave her the route it took after taking the items. “Now, Sweetie,” Root said, closing the screen before sharing the information the machine discovered. “We could let the police handle this.”

“Yeah, and I could take cooking lessons and start wearing aprons, but none of those things are going to happen,” Shaw said and pursed her lips at the end.

Root couldn’t help that the image of Sameen in an apron … _just_ an apron … started flashing into her head.

“Root!” Sameen said, knowing exactly what direction Root’s mind just took.

“Well,” Root responded guiltily, “ _You_ put that thought in my head.” She opened her laptop and showed Sameen the screen.

As fast as Root was in hacking firewalls, Sameen was equally quick at putting a plan in order. When Fusco and Joss went in to talk to Ayala, Shaw grabbed Reese and Martine. Telling them they had a lead on where the gunman was, she explained what she wanted everyone to do. They needed Martine to stay with Ayala. They needed Reese to come with them.

She would tell Fusco and Carter about it …. Later.

“You don’t think …..?” Reese said, looking into Ayala’s room at his girlfriend who was going to give him hell later.

“Deal with it, Reese,” Shaw said, no time for his concerns.

Sameen, Root and Reese left without mentioning anything to Joss and Fusco. “I’ll tell Fusco we had to leave, but to keep his phone close,” Shaw said and Reese knew immediately that his very smart girlfriend would smell trouble as soon as Fusco got that message.

When they were downstairs, after making sure Isabelle was thanked, Root noticed the FedEx truck outside. “I have an idea,” she said to Shaw.

* * *

Upstairs, Joss and Fusco were getting nowhere with their interview. “I really don’t remember much,” Ayala lied.

“You know hampering an investigation is against the law, right?” Joss pointed out in a nice voice, because she could tell the woman wasn’t being forthcoming.

“Maybe … later,” Martine said and hoped they wouldn’t press her.

“If she remembers anything, you’ll call us?” Fusco said and handed Martine his card.

“Sure,” she assured him.

The waiting room was noticeably empty when the two detectives returned. “Now, where did they all go?” Joss wondered.

“Yeah, that’s not good,” Fusco said.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, with Reese’s trunk stocked with his usual arsenal, the Mayhem Twins approached the street where the suspect was believed to be held up.

“Is she really going to steal a ….?” Reese was asking when he saw the FedEx truck turn the corner rather quickly.

“Yep,” Shaw said.

They watched as the truck pulled up outside the house. Root grabbed a package and emerged in full uniform.

“Let’s go,” Shaw said and they joined the imposter near the house. Root signaled how many thermal readings were inside. As they made their way to the back, Root rang the bell announcing she had a delivery.

“You have the wrong house,” the man barked at her when she went to hand it to him.

“No, I’m pretty sure this is for _Raphael Dubois._ It says it right here,” Root said and the name had been crossed out and his was written in … in pen.

He was going to argue, but there was a commotion inside and he turned to see what it was. “I really thought that would work,” Root said as she tazed the man in the doorway. She struggled to drag him inside, and sent Fusco a text to come to Brooklyn.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the Troublesome Trio, Fusco and Carter were already in Brooklyn. Her instincts told her to put an APB out on John’s car. Now, they knew exactly where they were.

“I swear, I never get normal texts from those two,” he said as he shared with Joss what it said. “Come to Brooklyn, bring back up.”

“I will … I will … hurt him,” Joss said, because she expected him to keep her in the loop. “Do they know we’re the ones with the badges?” she asked her partner.

“You know that don’t stop them, right?” Fusco asked, having lots of experience in this particular area.

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Carter fumed.

* * *

The Noblemen, while ironic in name, prided themselves on how easily they blended into the quiet, tree- line neighborhood. They had the required working couple who waved to their neighbors and helped the senior citizens with their groceries. All the time, their operation of espionage was working out of their basement. It was a small group, but very efficient.

They had warned their leader not to act on his personal feelings when they found Ayala’s location, but he wouldn’t listen. He had lost track of his ex-wife and when he found her, he decided to repay her. After all, two years before, when they were close to closing in on where the machine was, she had shot him and left him for dead.

Reese subdued the two guys at the back door, while Shaw easily disposed of the woman who had been making lunch. “Eww,” Shaw said, taking the time to look in the pot on the stove. “What the hell is that?”

They could hear the burly man who was heavily armed at the door, right before he succumbed to the jolt from the FedEx delivery woman.

“Did you text Fusco?” Shaw asked and Root said she did with the slightest salute to her girlfriend in charge. “Let’s find this guy so we can talk to him,,” Shaw said and they walked down the hallway while Reese tied the others up.

* * *

“He’s kind of your ..ex-brother-in-law,” Root said, tilting her head.

Shaw turned around to see Root standing there in full FedEx uniform. “Nice touch,” she said, ignoring the first comment.

They entered the bedroom, Shaw kicking the door just above the lock.

The man of the hour was on the bed, receiving the blood transfusion and pain meds. “Well, that’s going to make him reticent,” Shaw said as she fought with the one guard who was next to his bed.

Root couldn’t help but be amazed at how effortlessly her shorter girlfriend could subdue a six foot man by kicking out his knee and grabbing his neck with her thighs, until he was unconscious.

“I would … _really_ like …,” Root started to say, feeling jealous of the man at that very moment, “… to … learn that. Yes, learn that,” she said pointing towards Shaw.

“Sure,” Shaw said, thinking Root was serious.

_Oh, she was, but for very different reasons_.

“We have ten minutes to get this guy to talk,” Shaw said, trying to wake him.

“You better make that one,” Root said, looking out the window at the unmarked cars and police cars that pulled up to the house.

“Dammit!” Shaw said, “….he let Carter drive!”


	55. Carter is Not Happy

Root had just seen the police approaching the house and told Shaw she had very little time to interrogate her man. “I think the only one in worse shape than this guy, will be John when Carter gets here,” Root mused in her usually slow approach to life attitude.

“A little help?” Shaw said, not feeling as relaxed as Root.

“Oh, sure,” Root said and went over to the long tube that was carrying the pain med to the man and bent it in half. “This will wake him up,” she deduced. And it did.

Groggy and in pain, the injured patient came out of his induced slumber with a start. He slowly looked up at the women on either side of his bed. “I ..shot …you,” he said to Sameen.

Her reaction was … priceless.

“What?” Sameen asked, not looking at the man, but rather at Root because she wanted her to tell her this man was delusional and was not mixing her up with Ayala.

“I shot you! Wait…,” he said as his blurry eyesight got better. “You’re the bitch…”

“Okay,” Root said, slapping his injured kneecap and causing the pain to surge. “We’re not here to get reacquainted.

“I’m the reason you’re hooked up to this little blood transfusion, but I digress,” Sameen said and got closer. “I want to know why you were after that woman.”

“What is she doing?” he asked when he saw Root pushing the dresser in front of the door so no one could interrupt their interrogation.

“She’s helping me. Now, tell me why you were after that woman or I will tie both your pain and blood lines into knots,” she smiled.

“She’s my ex-wife,” he said and fell back in pain.

“Yeah, that match didn’t work out, eh? So, I know divorce can be messy,” Sameen said, bobbing her head back and forth, “…but you shot her at close range, in a crowded place. You had to know you'd be shot, caught or identified, at the very least.”

“It was stupid, I admit, but I hate that woman!” he said. “She is so …”

“Aggravating? Stubborn? A pain in the ass?” Sameen tried to help along.

“I don’t know who you are, but you look like her. Older, maybe,” he said and Root tapped his knee again and told him they had no time for chitchat. “The cops are on their way,” Root smiled.

“Tell me what you were doing there and I’ll keep the cops at bay,” Sameen lied.

“You’ll get me a deal if I talk?” he asked, hearing the sirens outside.

“Sure. We can do that, right? Sameen said, looking at Root who wholeheartedly agreed they could.

“Stupid woman. I married her because she had a machine. I was working undercover and we met. We actually, I thought, fell in love. But I had a duty to perform and I needed that machine. People were willing to pay a lot of money for it,” he started.

“What kind of machine?” Shaw asked as if she didn’t know.

“A powerful program. It could control the city, through the wires or some shit. I don’t know, but I know people were anxious to get their hands on it,” he said.

“So, you married her to get her machine?” Sameen asked. “Why not just take it?”

“Not that easy. It’s not like it was sitting in her bedroom on the desk. I never did find it. Being the romantic that I am, I actually fell in love while I was waiting. Then, she shoots me when she found out I was working undercover. Can you believe it? Her own husband?” Finally, we got a message that it was here and so we came. We worked months to find her and when we did, no machine. So, I figured she cost me. I got a tip from a guy that she was in the club. I went to pay her back,” he said. “Is she dead?”

Root waited to see if she would have to intervene and pull Shaw off the guy; not because he didn’t deserve to have the crap kicked out of him, but because she heard talking downstairs and knew they didn’t have time. But Sameen didn’t let her anger get the better of her.

“Yeah, she did. So, you’re looking at murder one,” Sameen said.

“Good!” he said and Sameen grabbed him up by his pajama shirt.

“I destroyed your rotator cuff, blew out a kneecap and you’ll never fire a gun with that hand again. What makes you think I wouldn't end your miserable life right now?” she snarled.

“What’s you deal? Are you after the machine or is that woman related to you?” he asked astutely.

“My _deal_?” Sameen asked back, and was about to explain when Root gently cleared her throat. She didn’t think it was wise to give this guy too much information.

“We have to go, Sweetie,” Root said, hearing the commotion downstairs.

“But you said you’d help me get a deal,” he remembered.

“Yeah, about that…,” Shaw said and looked around for something to secure him. Over on the dresser were the handcuffs that the cop used on him last night. The ones the cop borrowed from a detective. “What the hell are you into?” Sameen asked, as she picked them up.

“Hey, they look familiar,” Root said because they were the same ones she had borrowed and decorated.

“What are you doing?” the man who really thought he made a deal asked as Shaw cuffed him to the bed. “You said I would get a deal!”

“You did. I let you live in spite of the fact that you pissed me off,” Shaw said as Root searched for their escape route.

He tried to struggle to get free, in spite of the pain, but Sameen released the knot in the pain meds and opened the clip to allow even more to surge through. “This will take about ….oh, there you go,” she said as he fell back onto the bed.

“John says rooftop, two buildings over and down the fire escape,” Root said, as she found the stairs to the attic in the closet.

* * *

The voice of the police coming and finding the zip tied people downstairs made the women move even faster. “I guess Reese didn’t want to face his angry girlfriend,” Shaw snickered as they closed the doors behind them, made their way to the roof and did as Reese suggested. Minutes later, they jumped off the last step of the metal apparatus and got into the car John had waiting for them.

Not one to ever miss an opportunity to give John a hard time; Sameen started as soon as she got in the back seat. “What’s the matter, Reese? Afraid your girlfriend is going to give you a hard time?

In response, Reese made a sharp turn that sent Shaw sprawling across the back seat before she could buckle up.

“John,” Root warned not to hurt her girlfriend.

“You don’t think she’s _just_ coming for me, do you, Shaw?” Reese asked in his raspy voice.

“Hey!” Sameen countered quickly, “Fusco will …,” but then she stopped when she saw John looking at her in the rear view mirror with a very doubtful expression.

“Maybe we should avoid Detective Carter for a while,” Root suggested.

“Right,” John said, agreeing as much as it was casting his doubt.

“I’m hungry,” Shaw said, having gotten in touch with her inner feelings. “Oh, that reminds me,” she said and took out her phone.

* * *

A second later, Fusco dropped the top of the pot that the soup was simmering in. “Better … shut this off,” he said, because his friend just warned him NOT to touch it.

“So, it looks like they locked this guy in the room, pulled a dresser by the door so he couldn’t escape and then … someone tied them up,” a rookie cop tried desperately to piece the confusing pieces together.

“Basements filled with coke,” another reported.

“So, we just busted a drug ring?” the first cop asked, unable to figure out what the set up was.

“Oh, I ain’t _done_ busting up things,” Carter said, going upstairs to see what the guy up there looked like. “FUSCO!” she called for her partner to join her.

“Please say she didn’t kill him, please say she didn’t kill him,” he said in a low voice.

“These look at all familiar to you?” Joss asked of the pink handcuffs.  She had seen them sticking out of her partner's belt. 

“He’s alive?” he asked, breathing a long sigh of relief. “I … uh… saw them… on him last night. Must have been the only ones the cop had,” Fusco said haltingly.

“I don’t even want to know,” Joss said to herself as she tried to figure this out. It didn’t take much given that her expert weapons boyfriend teamed up with an IT genius and the hot headed sister of the injured party. What she couldn’t quite figure out was the abandoned FedEx truck downstairs.

The cops came in and put the gunman on a gurney and out to the local hospital.

“Did it ever occur to you to try to keep those three under wraps?” Joss whispered to Fusco, annoyed as hell.

“Hey, we don’t know … who was involved yet, do we?” Fusco tried weakly.

“Are you kidding me? There are people tied up downstairs and the suspect from last night is up here; tied up one bow short of being gift wrapped for us!” Joss snapped. “And who put that dresser in front of the door? Should I dust it for fingerprints?” she whispered.

“Listen,” Fusco said, pulling her to the side. It was not the place, nor the time for him to try and explain his relationship with Shaw. “Sometimes …,” he said slowly hoping to find the right words to convince the straightest cop he knew to be flexible. “… we could use some help.” Joss looked around and it didn’t seem the trio had injured anyone. There was nothing about this that she liked though. “Hey, it was her sister he shot,” he reminded her.

“We are _so_ not done with this,” Joss said, deciding to handle this later.

Just then, the bumpy trip out of the house woke up the injured gunman. “Hey, I’m telling you, it was a short angry woman and a FedEx employee,” he tried to convince the cops.

“Meds are making him loopy,” Joss said to the officer. “I don’t think he’s really coherent.”

* * *

“Martine is with Ayala back at the hotel,” Shaw updated her two cohorts.

“Are you going to mention that you told the guy who shot her, she was dead?” Root asked because that smelled of Witness Protection Plan.

But Shaw didn’t answer. She was too busy thinking about something simpler … like what to have to eat.

John drove them back into the City and pulled up outside of the Penthouse.

“Thanks,” Root was saying, when she noticed John was walking with them into the building. It wasn’t like John to invite himself in.

“What?” Reese said, when he went into the elevator and pressed the button for them. “You don’t think I’m facing Carter alone, do you?”

“Really, Reese?” Shaw mocked. “You are such a baby.”

“We’ll see, Shaw, we’ll see,” John said… in what could almost be called a smile. He used it when he thought he had the upper hand…like here … because he had an idea of how Joss thought.

It would only give him a marginal advantage.


	56. Difference of Opinion

“Would you like me to barricade the door?” Shaw continued to tease Reese because it was rare to see the man’s brow furrow in worry.

“We just laid a group of drug dealers at their feet,” Root pointed out. “Don’t you think Detective Carter will be pleased?” Root rarely called her by her first name when they were talking about Joss in her official capacity and did so, only socially.

“Joss …,” Reese began and Shaw leaned in wanting to pull the rest of that thought out of his mouth because his pause was too long.

“Joss…,” she finally repeated, swirling her finger in a circle.

“Does things by the books,” Reese concluded.

“Yeah? How’s that working for you in the …,” Shaw quipped, but Root gently elbowed her so she wouldn’t complete that sentence.

“I’m sure we can explain things, if and when, she gets here,” Root said, very matter of fact.

“Oh, she’s coming,” Reese assured them.

Shaw couldn’t help but take advantage of his situation. “How many times …,” she was about to joke, but Root prevented her again, by gently turning her to go into the kitchen.

* * *

“There he is!” Shaw said upon seeing Bear in the kitchen with Isabelle. She put her arms out to greet him, but he put his nose in the air and walked right past her … and then past Root. He did, however, get close enough to John that he could pet him. Shaw was …. appalled. “What the hell?” Bad enough he ignored her, but to allow Reese to fawn over him was the limit. “What did I do?” she asked defensively.

“I know, Bear,” John said emphatically. “I don’t understand it either.”

After having mocked _anyone_ who appeared to answer the dog’s thoughts, Shaw was beginning to feel like odd man out. “What? What did he say? Why are you talking to John?” she asked the dog directly. “Who feeds you from the table? Who .. who gives you midnight snacks?” Shaw barked and then realized those were two of the many things she was not supposed to do. “You know … sometimes.”

Root looked at Sameen, gave her head a full tilt and smiled. “He’s upset.”

“Well, no kidding,” Shaw said insulted that they would think she couldn’t pick up on that. “But … why?” Then she turned her attention back to Reese. “You know, he’s shedding on your six hundred dollar jacket.”

“That’s okay, right, Bear?” John said, still playing with him.

“I hope he drools on you,” Shaw said, annoyed.

“It’s okay, Sweetie. It’s not anything you did,” Root assured her. “Technically.”

“He’s gets like this every year around this time,” Isabelle explained as she put the food out on the counter.

Shaw immediately sat down, but her curiosity was still on the dog. “This _time_ of … _year_? How about this time of … the _day_ , the _week_ , the _minute_? That dog is always pissed!” she said annoyed.

“He seems perfectly fine to me, Shaw,” Reese said in a low voice because he was paying her back.

Shaw glared at the two males in the room, but that only seemed to make Bear more playful. She couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Okay, I give up. What has his panties in a knot now?” She was annoyed that everyone else seemed to know.

“Shaw doesn’t understand does she?” John almost cooed at the dog.

Root leaned over and put her hand on Sameen and whispered, “It’s …,” she said looking back to make sure Bear was occupied. “… _the Westminster Dog Show.”_

With that, Root sat back and sipped her tea as if that should clear everything up. It only aggravated Sameen more that it made no sense.

“What? The … what?” she asked.

“The dog show? “ Isabelle commented, under the sane assumption that everyone in Manhattan had at least heard of it.

“That fancy pageant where they parade dogs around like they’re all poodles or something?” Shaw asked and Root leaned over and blocked her so no one would hear the snickering. Root appreciated that there were still things Sameen was learning about Bear.

“He … thinks he could .. win it,” Root said in a soft voice.

Sameen stopped chewing and took that in. And then she literally choked on it. Of course, she had more food in her mouth than her orifice was built for, so it wasn’t hard to do.

“Oh my God,” she gasped and coughed more. “I would … give anything …(cough)… to see (cough) him prancing around.”

Reese purposely pushed the dog’s ears back as he petted him to prevent the canine from hearing Shaw.

Isabelle watched as Root uttered her lover’s name in such a tone that she was gently admonished for mocking the dog’s aspirations. “Oh,” Shaw said, immediately getting that Root was serious. “It’s just…,” Shaw backpedaled. “… he would totally win. Totally.”

The chef pursed her lips, to keep from laughing at how well Root could get Sameen to behave. She pushed the next dish over … as a reward.

Bear wasn’t stupid. Even with his ears down, he knew what was going on. He ran back … right past Sameen and grabbed … what looked like the bone of a dinosaur leg.

“Where did you get that?” Root laughed, but he snubbed her again.

”Hey!” Shaw bellowed, unable to concentrate on the chicken fajita in front of her. “I wanted to …I was going to get him that!”

“Well, this one ….,” Isabelle said, getting the gift card that was attached to the large red bow. “….was from Ayala.”

Shaw opened her mouth, but nothing came out. _Nothing_. She turned to stare at Root with a ‘ _how dare she_?’ expression.

“That was … thoughtful, no?” Root tried. A glare indicated that her girlfriend did not agree.

“Man, he loves that thing,” Reese noted, egging Shaw on.

“His … his intestines will beg to differ later,” Shaw said authoritatively, returning to her food for solace.

“We better check and make sure that really is from your sis…Ayala,” Root said, texting Martine. “Oh, good,” she finally said. “Yes, she ordered it yesterday. Now, she’s back home with Azar. In a lot of pain, but is resting,” Root read the update from Martine.

“Does she know we took care of her adoring ex-husband?” Shaw asked between bites.

“No, Martine said,” Root read. “She’s been sleeping since they got back.”

“Are you hungry, Mr. Reese?” Isabelle asked and John washed up and went over to the island. Before he sat down, he carefully removed his jacket and placed it on the chair farthest away. Dog hair was one thing, but sitting next to Shaw while she ate was quite another.

* * *

Not one to be shy about her accomplishments, Shaw asked Isabelle to turn up the volume on the kitchen television when the breaking news showed Raphael being taken out of the house in a stretcher. The camera pulled back to the reporter who gave as many details as he could. “ _Police reportedly received an anonymous tip that there was some suspicious activity in the house behind us. When cops arrived, they found the getaway gunman from last night’s club shooting where the suspect shot a woman at close range. Afterwards, the bodyguard of Samantha Groves, who was at the table with the injured woman, opened fire and struck the man twice.”_

“THREE TIMES!” Shaw shouted, annoyed at the misinformation. “They’re supposed to report the facts, aren’t they? The fact is, I hit him _three_ times!”

Root looked over at Isabelle who had clutched her heart and was motionless.

Of all the things Shaw could have said to ease the woman’s fears; “It’s okay. He’s my ex brother-in-law,” was not one of them.

* * *

Just then, the buzzer signaled that someone was on their way up. Root accessed the camera in the elevator and saw who the guests were. “Time to face the music, kiddies,” Root smiled and got up from her seat.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said and followed her.

“This is delicious,” John said to Isabelle, who found the man’s azure eyes hypnotic. “Do you think I could get it to go?”

“Sure,” she said and immediately wrapped up the dish in a container.

In the meantime, John put his expensive jacket back on and petted Bear. “Who needs a trophy anyway,” he comforted the dog.

* * *

Root and Shaw stood there as the elevator door opened. Joss Carter stood there momentarily before entering. Fusco was behind her and had trouble looking Shaw in the eye, the way kids do when they know their BFF is about to get yelled at.

This was hard for Joss. It was tough enough walking the thin blue line in her job, but talking the one between detective and friend was even thinner.

“I think we need to talk,” she said and walked into the entry way.

“Of course,” Root said, expecting the conversation the whole time.

“Sure, I’ll get Reese for you,” Shaw said, when she noticed he hadn’t followed them into the room. She disappeared into the kitchen about to give Reese hell for not following them.

“Does she _really_ think he’s sitting in there?” Joss asked and shook her head.

“Where … where is he?” Shaw asked when John was nowhere to be found.

“Mr. Reese left,” Isabelle said.

Seconds later, she burst through the kitchen door and walked back to the living room. “He … he took the back elevator!” she stated in disbelief. “He took …. He left!”

“Don’t worry, Sameen,” Joss said. “I’ll deal with him later.”

“Yes, of course you will,” Shaw said because it was a foregone conclusion. “But I won’t get to see it!”

Joss just stared at her, unaware of how deep the rivalry ran between the Mayhem Twins. “In the meantime, I’d like to talk about your active participation in discovering the whereabouts of the suspect from last night’s club shooting.” And in case there was any doubt, Joss pushed her jacket back a little to display her badge. She was praying it would dawn on the couple that she had one ... and they didn’t.

Even Fusco knew that was a sign of his partner letting everyone know not to give her a hard time. He knew he had to intervene, for his friend’s sake, but that didn’t meant he wasn’t jealous of Reese right now because he had thought of an escape plan. “We’re here … _officially_ ,” he said to Shaw who stared at him like he had just uttered those words in another language.

“Well, I hope it’s to _officially_ thank me,” Shaw said, because that’s how she talked to Fusco.

Fusco expected Shaw’s brashness. Carter was a little taken aback. But she knew how to get through hard heads like Sameen. “You know stealing a FedEx truck is a federal offense, right? Impersonating a FedEx employee is another offense?”

Up until that moment, Sameen saw those things as a clever ruse designed by her girlfriend. She was beginning to understand that Joss may not share that admiration.

“We … needed entry,” Root confessed and Shaw decided she needed to give Root lessons in deceptive maneuvers.

“Did you ever hear of name, rank and serial number?” she whispered to Root.

“I know this was personal, Shaw, but you can’t go after suspects. That’s what we do. And, how did you even know where to find him?” the detective asked and this time, she looked right at the woman who would have the skills to track a person down.

“Basic scanning techniques, really,” Root said honestly. She didn’t mention the part where the machine did all the work.

“Well, I don’t know how we’re going to explain the FedEx truck or the package in the house, but I am going to say we got an anonymous tip from a neighbor who heard a lot of noise coming from the house because that part is true,” Joss said sternly.

“I bet that was when …(raised voice)… _Reese_ … tied those two big guys up,” Shaw said, to make sure no one forgot that he was there.

“I’m dealing with him later,” Joss repeated and when Shaw opened her mouth to remind the detective there was no fun in that, Fusco interrupted her.

“I think they’ll buy it was a rival gang given how much of that stuff goes on there,” Fusco suggested.

“Yeah, I hope so,” Joss said, looking at Root and Shaw. “I’m not going to let you loose on my City,” she warned them. “If you need … something …,” she said vaguely on purpose, “… You tell us and we’ll take care of it.”

Now, Joss meant that to explain that it was the NYPD’s job to uphold the law and protect the public.

Shaw distinctly heard Joss offer to help them next time they needed backup.


	57. Edible Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Shaw and Root a reader suggested and I couldn't have agreed more.  
> Hope this helps.

“Well, I think that went better that you expected,” Shaw said when Fusco and Joss left the apartment.

“She’s quite a reasonable woman,” Root said in turn, but she was looking at her woman.

“We make a good team,” Shaw said and meant it as the highest compliment she could pay someone. “You know, except for the spilling your guts and totally honest answers,” she continued as she let her hands roam up Root’s arms.

“Honesty … is…” Root attempted to quote, but dark eyes were scanning her body and she was lost in that.

“For suckers,” Shaw finished and kissed Root before she could argue, which she would have, had she been able to complete sentences.

When Shaw released her lips, and then ran her tongue over hers to taste Root’s gloss, the taller woman moaned. “God, you are so sexy when you …,”

“When I…?” Shaw prompted because her girlfriend had stopped talking.

“When … you …,” she struggled, “…do anything.”

“Oh, flattery will get you …,” Shaw said slowly, leaning on the balls of her feet to reach Root’s ear, “…everywhere,” she whispered, her breath causing shivers to explode down Root’s spine.

There was something about the danger of last night mixed, with the sheer adrenaline of escaping the police that set Shaw’s nerve endings on fire. And … she also wasn’t hungry, so that helped her focus on her other needs.

“I already know how to get to every place I want,” Root taunted, slipping her finger into Shaw’s waistline and sliding it back and forth under the material.

“Are you … suggesting … I’m easy?” Shaw asked, pretending to be insulted.

This was a playful game, and if there was something that Root loved, it was games. “I am not saying you’re easy, but I do know how to make your knees weak,” Root whispered back.

Sameen started this back and forth, and by hell, she wasn’t going to be outdone just because Root could think of kinkier things to do! Sameen needed to take back control! Of course, she had no idea that Root was leading her exactly where she wanted her.

“Let’s see if this doesn’t make you weak,” Shaw proffered and took Root’s blouse in her two hands and ripped it open. Buttons went flying and it quickened Root’s breath because Sameen was going to get physical. Very physical.

“Not bad,” Root went to say when Shaw opened the front fastened of her bra and gently licked each apex. “Okay…closer,” Root said, and it was getting harder as she got hotter.

Sameen stood back and pulled the _ace out of her sleeve_ by opening up her own blouse and letting it fall to the floor. Then, she slipped out of her pants and stood there in a French cut red bra and thong. “I’m going to walk over there,” Sameen said in a breathy tone while playing with Root’s long curls and pointing to the table. “And you’re ...going to watch me,” she said, as if she really needed to command Root’s eyes to remain glued to her curvaceous form.

With that, the shorter woman strolled slowly away, swaying her hips in the most sensuous walk Root had ever seen her do. She watched, mesmerized as Sameen walked to the table and leaned back against the edge. “Dessert?” she said to Root and put the tip of her finger in her mouth.

Root … was the one who had trouble standing up now. But she made it and practically ran to the dining room table.

But Shaw was ready.

She let Root push the straps of her bra off her shoulders, so that she could kiss the protruding top of her round breasts. She even let Root pull her towards her tightly by squeezing her derriere in her hands. But then she turned Root so fast, it made the taller woman lightheaded. Shaw picked Root up, placed her down on the table hard, and pushed her gently to fall back; her hands sweeping the place settings out of the way. They had done this erotic dance so many times; they had it down to a science.

An incredibly _hot_ science.

Root reached out to grab Sameen’s forearms and the touch of the steel like limbs excited her even more. “God, you are so ..damn … strong,” she said to Sameen, as the shorter woman allowed her hands to glide down the length of Root’s body.

This was four-alarm-fire foreplay, and Root wanted it to last. She pushed herself up fast and moved Sameen backwards towards the couch. “You’re going down,” she said softly as she pushed her onto the cushions.

“I know that …,” Shaw smirked, “…but I’m taking the long route.” She pulled Root down onto of her and wrapped her legs snugly around the taller woman’s. Then, she placed her arms around Root’s back tightly. Root feigned her struggle to escape.

“You can’t get away,” Shaw said, the reasonable response when you’re playing a game of cat-and-mouse foreplay.

But the innocent words struck a chord with Root and she stopped moving and looked down in Shaw’s eyes. “I never want to be away from you,” she said emotionally. The thought of Sameen not there pieced her heart, even when the rest of her was on fire.

Words spoken from Root’s lips like that sent Shaw reeling. They seeped behind any distraction she was using and grabbed at her.

Root was being vulnerable … and hot …at the same time. It astounded Sameen, who knew only one response.

She devoured Root.


	58. Friends and Family

Reese wasn’t the only one who took the back exit out of the Penthouse that night. Once Isabelle heard what was going on inside, she discretely slipped out the rear exit, too. Even with her selective hearing, it was hard not to miss Root’s screams of sheer and utter delight.

Over and over again.

Of course, Isabelle’s husband would have no idea what put her in such an amorous mood that night and would give credit to the oysters they had for dinner. For the fifty-something year old chef, the younger couple was inspiring. But the woman was up bright and early the next morning because she knew, after hearing what she did; one of the women would be famished.

* * *

The other person who was up before the crack of dawn was Reese. He may have avoided the dressing down in front of his friends the night before, but he knew better than to not face the music that night. He arrived at Joss’ apartment with flowers, candy and a bottle of wine.

“Do you think this is going to stop me from telling you what I have to say?” she asked him, her hand on her hip, standing in the doorway and not letting him in. Fortunately, Taylor was at his father’s that night, so Joss had plenty of time to deal with Reese.

“No,” he answered truthfully.

‘ _God, don’t’ look at those eyes; do not look at them!_ ’ she commanded herself, but the longer he stood there gazing down at her, the harder it was. “Come in,” she finally said and when he passed her, she inhaled his cologne and started to lose the fight. “I shoulda called you to the station where I could conduct myself as a police officer, John Reese.”

He had learned that when Joss used his full name, she was upset with him.

“You have every reason …,” he started to agree, but Joss saw that coming. She had a teenage son and was very skilled in the art of avoiding arguments. Taylor was a clever kid and knew how to get around his mother with grace.

“Oh no, don’t agree with me, John Reese. I am upset with you! You took the law into your own hands and you let Frick and Frack talk you into going there to … to … I don’t know why you went!”

“Well, first of all …,” John said, putting the flowers in a vase, pushing the box of candy closer to Joss, and getting two glasses out of the cupboard. “They didn’t talk me into anything.”

“JOHN!” Joss said of his confession. “I can’t have my boyfriend breaking the law. I can’t turn a blind eye to this.”

“I never said we were there,” John countered.

“Oh,” Joss said, slowing down. “But you …”

“It sounds to me like rival gangs had it out for each other. Really bad guys, Joss. Now, I don’t think it was taking the law into anyone’s hands as much as it was visiting a former relative. If we were there at all, I mean.” His story was thin at best.

“You make my head hurt,” Joss confessed. “You make every muscle in my body tense.”

“I think I can help with that,” he smiled and offered her a glass of wine. “Come sit down and I’ll massage your shoulders.”

She would turn over in the middle of the night as the moonlight lit up his face and after the most exquisite love making she had ever imagined. “Damn you, John Reese,” she whispered. “You are good. So damn good,” she smiled as she placed a soft kiss on his temple.

Truly believing he was asleep when she uttered these words, she was surprised when he answered, “Thanks,” and opened his arms for her to snuggle next to him.

He woke up to Joss rushing off to work, offering him any choice of breakfast bar he wanted. He grabbed one and left with her. Even though she had the more dangerous job, it was Joss who suggested John be careful when they kissed and parted ways. She was referring to the influences he had at work.

* * *

Root descended the stairs to one of the sweetest sights she could imagine. Shaw was on the couch, sipping coffee as she consoled Bear. “First of all, I was pretty surprised to find out that you knew you were a ... _dog_ ,” she said and he growled to indicate she was on thin ice. “Second of all, you would not like all that prancing around in that show. You like being your own … person. You don’t want to be led around on a leash,” Shaw said and then laughed, asking Bear if he got the pun.

He didn’t.

But he could tell by her demeanor that Shaw was trying really hard to ask for forgiveness. ‘Okay,’ he barked and jumped at her, knocking her, and the nearly empty coffee mug, over so he could lick her face.

“GET OFF ME!” Shaw yelled to no avail. “Bear! Stop!”

“Okay, Bear,” Root said and the dog released his captive. “He forgives you,” Root informed Sameen.

“Forgives?” Shaw said, covered in dog saliva and coffee. “I am covered …Oh, God I’m going to have to take another shower,” she moaned.

Root’s face lit up. “Thank you, Bear,” she said, grabbing Sameen’s hand and pulling her up the stairs for the joint occurrence.

“I swear, you two are in on this together,” Sameen complained as Root enjoyed herself, gently pushing Sameen to undress and get into the shower.

“I love conserving water with you,” Root said as she lathered up her girlfriend’s body.

“How many times do you think we can ….oh, okay… yes… well, you never seem to run out of ideas,” Sameen said as Root took the shower head off and aimed it at her.

* * *

Isabelle knew better than to actually serve the food until both women were seated at the table. Which they were … thirty minutes later.

“How much trouble do you think John got in?” Shaw wondered as Root worked on her computer.

“Truthfully, Sweetie,” Root said, looking over at Shaw. “I don’t think anywhere as close as you’d like him to be in.”

“ _Me_? I don’t care,” Shaw scoffed and neither woman believed her. “What do I care?”

“Well, you have a sibling like rivalry with John, different than your relationship with Lionel, that indicates you’d like to see him in trouble,” Root theorized as she looked up at the ceiling.

Shaw’s head shot up, and then she looked at Isabelle who had seen her with both men enough to know Root was on the right track. Her expression indicated to Shaw that she was agreeing with Root.

“What? That is so … I do not … What do I care? What does that even mean?” she said defensively. And as if she hadn’t already proven Root’s point, when John entered the kitchen, Sameen got up and resorted to her usual modus operandi.

“Ow!” John said, when she punched him in the arm for being the cause of her embarrassment. “What did I do?” he asked Root.

Root shrugged her shoulders and smiled, and wasn’t about to share her inner most thoughts.

* * *

Shaw had collected her jacket and met them at the elevator. John stood there with his breakfast, packed and ready to go. “Now you’re coming here for breakfast?” Shaw barked.

“No, just today,” John said because Isabelle had offered.

“Let’s not make this a habit,” Shaw said as the three of them got on the elevator.

“I got you this,” Reese said, offering Sameen his breakfast bar from Joss’.

She stared at it a few seconds before grabbing it. “Did you _even_ get in trouble?” she had to ask.

“Sure I did, Shaw,” he assured her, but there was nothing in his tone that said he meant it.

“Sure,” Sameen said and found it necessary to bite hard into the protein bar he had given her. “This tastes like sawdust.”

“They usually do,” John said in his low voice.

* * *

When the trio appeared in the street, Shaw said she wanted to go check in on Ayala, and Root said she would go along. John bade them goodbye as he made his way to work.

Minutes later, the couple arrived at Azar’s penthouse suite at the Waldorf Astoria. They had discussed what Shaw told Raphael about having killed Ayala. Of course, they would have to discuss that with the New York DA if that story was one they could go with. It would mean that Ayala would have to leave for some time.

When they explained what had happened to Azar and Ayala that morning, only Sameen was surprised by her younger sibling’s response.

“YOU WANT ME TO RUN AWAY?” she shouted, and then grimaced in pain because she pushed herself up from the pillows.

“Okay, no,” Shaw said, using her daily dose of patience all in one shot, “…just take some time to recover and give things a chance to … “

“No!” Ayala said, and would have crossed her arms if one of them wasn’t bandaged and in a sling.

Sameen turned and looked at Azar; her hand flying out to indicate she should talk some sense into her.

“You’re suggesting that we fake Ayala’s death and go into hiding?” Azar asked for clarification.

“He...was…after…her. If he finds out your stupid machine is still alive, what makes you think he won’t try again,” Sameen stammered. “Oh, and by the way, I wouldn’t let her marry again until she’s 45!”

“We were in love,” Ayala bellowed.

“Fifty,” Shaw changed her answer.

“Sameen,” Azar said in a pleasant soft tone; the kind someone uses when they’re about to tell you why your idea sucks. “…we cannot run, we cannot hide. If someone is out there still looking for the machine, they will not stop. They will find us, just as Raphael found us here.”

This made absolute sense to the tech genius in the room. “She has a point, Sweetie,” Root said, touching Sameen’s arm calmly.

The same message from Root took on a different meaning for Shaw. “Fine!” she said rolling her eyes, but relinquishing.

“I do however,” Root said, thinking it through as they spoke, “….have a private island that perhaps the two of you would want to visit for an extended period of time. Until we decide what to do with the machine.”

“How is that …” Ayala was asking, but Azar thanked Root and told her they would consider it. Both women had a great deal of recovery ahead of them.

Shaw looked at Root. “What island… like Puerto Rico? Do you own Puerto Rico?” she asked because anything was possible with the CEO.

“No, a little smaller,” Root said of the private residence.

Azar assured them that she and Ayala would talk it over and get back to them.

“I told you I could handle him,” Ayala said of her ex-husband. And then added, “But … thank you,” she said, waving her injured arm because she knew she couldn’t have done it.

“Yeah, sure,” Sameen said. “We're ... family.”

It was the first time she had acknowledged that so calmly.  Both Root and Azar exchanged glances when they heard it.

* * *

Back at the office, Sameen seemed unprepared for Janine rushing at her, checking to see if she was okay. “How are you? How is your sister? Is it okay to call her that yet? I saw the news, you know, about the … incident … in Brooklyn and it had your signature all over it, so I just knew you were involved because he was the suspect in the club shooting and I figured you went there to repay him for hurting your sister. Are we calling her that?”

“You can …call her anything you want if you just get me coffee,” Sameen said and Janine started to run away.

“And donuts,” Shaw added.


	59. Getting Even

After Root and Shaw left the hotel, Azar talked to her younger daughter.

“Perhaps Sameen is right,” Azar began and raised her finger because she knew Ayala was about to protest. “It’s not running away. We are both recovering, and if we are going to help them with the machine, then we must be healthy to do so. It will help no one if Raphael’s actions brought attention to all of us.”

Perhaps because she had been blessed to have her parent with her for all of her formative years, Ayala listened to her mother’s logic instead of flying off the handle. The way someone else might have. She sat there fuming, trying to decide if what her mother wanted them to do, made sense.

“I can’t believe he shot me,” Ayala said, hurting both physically and emotionally.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know he was here,” her mother responded. “The call the police received was before he arrived at the club, because the machine deduced the trouble, but it didn’t tell us he was here,” Azar said, noting the gap in the AI’s reporting.

“If he wanted to kill me, he could have. His aim is better than that,” Ayala said.

“Well, dear, you _did_ shoot him first,” Ayala reasoned. “And besides, you’ve never really had good taste in _men_ ,” she quipped just as the phone rang to announce Martine was there.

“I … will have to tell her … that we’re leaving,” the injured woman said.

“Yes, I know. I have some things to do inside,” her mother said, and got up and kissed her on her head.

“That was … nice of … Sameen,” Ayala said, trying to compliment her sister to see how it felt.

“I doubt you’ll find anyone more loyal than your sister,” Azar said smiling.

* * *

“I didn’t know what to bring, so I brought you the whole box!” Janine said as she raced back into Sameen’s cubicle. Were it not for the fact that the box was opened and a variety of different donuts were staring back at Sameen, she might have complained. “So how are … _things_ ,” Janine asked, and whispered the last word as if it were code.

“ _Things_ …,” Shaw repeated in the same tone, as she looked over the choices, “…are fine.”

“I just knew you would go there,” Janine said, her tone full of admiration. “Did you ….?” she started to ask, and wrung her hands back and forth.

“Wring his neck?” Shaw asked - her mouth full of a sugary donut. The white powdered sugar exploded down onto her black t shirt.

“No!” Janine laughed and immediately got a clothes brush out of … Sameen wasn’t quite sure where …. And started brushing the white substance off her chest.

“Where did…?” Sameen was asking, but the assistant was too busy removing the powder from her chest. “Okay, no I didn’t do anything to him. I just … kind of _warned_ him,” she smiled at her tough demeanor. Shaw enjoyed that a great deal. In fact, some days she didn’t think she got to do it enough and worried she’d lose her skills.

Janine sat back and listened attentively, the way kids do when they first hear the story of Wonder Woman or Supergirl. “Oh, I bet you did,” she exclaimed, clutching her chest. “I bet your sister was so grateful!” she projected because she knew she would have been.

‘My sister … was … less than impressed,” Sameen admitted. “But I get that. It was her ex-husband and I’m sure she would have rather handled the situation herself. She’s in no shape to do that, so I acted on her behalf.”

“You’re my hero,” Janine gushed and broke Shaw’s reverie.

“What? No, no, I’m no one’s hero. Trust me on that,” Shaw declared.

“But you are,” Janine insisted because the woman had all the makings of being a true hero; including the hallmark of not wanting to be one.

Shaw stared back, realizing that arguing the point would take up energy and there were still donuts left that needed her attention. “Okay,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Hey, where’s Martine?” I wanted to tell her what we suggested as a possible solution,” Shaw finally remembered. As a courtesy, she was going to tell her about Root’s offer to relocate her mother and sibling.

“She’s not in yet,” Janine reported. “But I’ll tell her to come see you right away.”

Shaw’s cubicle was right next to Martine’s and she would likely see her before the assistant did, but explaining that would take too much time away from her third donut.

* * *

“Geez, Shaw, you think you could fit the whole thing in your mouth?” Fusco said a minute later.

“Ireallyneedadoor,” Shaw said lowering her head. She lifted it and the box to offer him one.

“No, thanks,” Fusco said, sitting down. Shaw was motionless. It had to be a joke that her friend was refusing a donut. It was the longest standing gag she had with him that he was a cop … who loved donuts.

“What?” Shaw said, thinking she misunderstood.

“I’m eh… watching my weight,” he said and refused to look at the selections.

“Why?” Shaw pressed.

“Because a man my age has to be careful. I gotta run on my job, Shaw. I don’t have a cushiony one like you,” he said to deflect and then pulled back before she could strike.

“I don’t have a cushiony job,” she countered, but he looked at her, an eyebrow raised at the box of desserts.

“Yeah, well, speaking of your moonlighting job with Larry and Curly, I think they’re buying the whole rival gang thing with your brother-in-law. Geez, I’d hate to be at your family reunion,” Lionel mused. 

“Listen, if your girlfriend has you on this diet, I’m going to march down there right now and tell her your eating is  attached to what little sense of humor you have and it’s not going to work,” Shaw quipped.

“Pfft,” Fusco scoffed unconvincingly and wished he hadn’t said anything. “It’s not… her. I … need to lose …some weight.”

“Lionel,” Shaw said in a know-it-all tone, “…. I know you and you never diet unless it’s for a woman. I’ve seen you run … and weight loss ain’t going to help that.”

“Thanks, Shaw, I knew I could count on you for your support,” Lionel said because he forgot to send Sameen the update that he was serious about this.

“Oh,” Shaw said, it finally dawning on her. “You’re … not kidding?”

“No,” he said, insulted by her last remark.

“It’s … her idea?” Shaw asked, because she knew her friend.

“No, she … _suggested_ … we could do some more physical things,” he explained.

“Oh, did she now?” Shaw said, because her first response was always to bust on Lionel.

“Okay, no … not what I meant,” he said, but had to admit that was funny. “She wants to go … hiking and I don’t think I can do more than a few blocks.”

“Real hikers talk in … miles, Fusco, not blocks,” Shaw pointed out.

“Yeah, blocks, miles, all the same when you’re winded,” he confessed.

“Okay, I’ll help you,” Shaw said as if he asked. She pulled off a big piece of the last donut she was going to have as she thought about it.

“By eating all the donuts?” Fusco said back.

“By helping you get into shape,” Shaw explained.

“Are you even concerned about what the Captain said when Joss explained why the two of us were at the gang related incident?” Lionel asked, trying to get his friend to focus on business and off of him.

“No. I have complete faith in Joss to handle it,” Shaw answered.

“Oh, hey thanks. I’m the one who saved your ass,” Lionel informed her because it took some finessing to distract the Captain on the exact details of how they wound up in Brooklyn busting up a drug dealer’s den that no one knew existed. _“Funny how those things happen,” Lionel had said and Joss groaned into her hand. The Captain then informed her two favorite star detectives that she wasn’t buying what they were selling, but she would give them some latitude on this because some of what they said did add up._

“The way I see it,” Shaw said, looking up at the ceiling, “…is I found the guy who slipped between NYPD’s fingers. That’s how I see it,” she said smugly and finished the donut.

“I’m not holding your head when you’re tossing your cookies later, Shaw,” he threatened even though he had never seen her get sick because of a sugar overdose.

“So not happening, Fusco,” she replied because she never did that.

“Shaw?” Janine called as she stood on a filing cabinet and leaned over the wall above Sameen’s head.

The woman’s sudden appearance made Sameen jump. “What the hell….” She said as she saw her assistant up there.

“Martine’s back and she doesn’t look okay,” said the woman who had no trouble barging into Shaw’s office for any reason and who now decided the wall was the better choice.

“So?” Shaw asked, wondering what she was supposed to do.

“Well, I think it’s over what you’re making your sister do,” Janine whispered down to her boss.

“What are you making your sister do?” Fusco asked immediately.

“Wait, what?” Shaw said defensively. “I’m not making her …I suggested maybe …Root has an island. Or two…”

“Maybe you better talk to her,” Janine suggested when she heard Martine slamming drawers and cabinets.

Shaw started out of her area, Fusco behind her when she heard her security coworker yell out – “Who the hell took the donuts?”

Sameen stopped in her tracks, turned, and shoved the box in Fusco’s hands. And as luck would have it, just as Iris was getting off the elevator.

“Detective Fusco, Sameen,” Iris smiled and then noticed the box. She didn’t say a word.

“Oh, these are not mine,” Fusco said because he was the one who asked Iris to help him stick to his new regiment. “I know I’m a cop, so everyone assumes I eat these….,” he blathered.

“Everyone assumes that because we all know how much you like them,” Shaw shook her head.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Fusco sneered and Iris got another look into the relationship these two adults shared.

“Hey, Doc,” Sameen said, realizing how impeccable her timing was. “Maybe you have a minute to …see … how Martine is.”

“Is Ms. Rousseau okay?” Iris asked, not trusting that Sameen had grabbed her wrist now and was leading her to Martine’s office.

“Shaw upset her,” Fusco said, wanting to get even.

“I didn’t … we don’t know that,” Shaw said and crossed her arms.

“Do you think you did something to upset her?” Iris asked and Sameen was amazed at how she couldn’t shake off the doctor’s questions the way she could Fusco’s.

“Well… I …,” she said shaking her head no, but heard herself say, “Maybe.”

“Then, maybe she would want you to ask,” Iris said, gently pointing Sameen in the right direction.

“Oh,” Sameen said as Iris smiled goodbye to both of them, looking at the box of donuts.

“These are hers,” Fusco declared, shoving the box back into his friend’s hands. “Nice job, Shaw,” he said before leaving. “I owe you one,” he said and he didn’t mean it in a nice way.

“What the hell did I do?” she asked, turning and crashing the donut box right into Martine.

“Thanks for sharing, Shaw,” Martine barked and took the box to drown her feelings in the confectionery blobs.

Shaw watched as Martine disappeared into her own cubicle and the elevator door closed as Fusco left. John appeared out of nowhere on his way to get coffee.

“You want to blame me for something now, too?” Shaw asked.

He stopped and gave it thought. “Nope, not a thing, Shaw,” he said and started to walk away. “Oh, but we do have a few hours open now that Ayala won’t be coming back as a consultant, so I’m leaving it up to you to fill them with some high level, intense training for the staff,” he announced before disappearing.

“Why … how did I ….?” Shaw started to ask, but there was no one to listen. She wanted to announce they should all be seeking therapy and that she happened to know a good one she could recommend, but no one was there. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll just tell the doctor that she should roam these halls and find all of you.”

And that’s where Shaw headed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martine and Ayala or Martine and Janine?  
> Our voting lines are now open. lol


	60. How Did We Get Here?

“If Ms. Shaw ….,” Iris was telling her secretary when the woman finished her thought.

“I know… just let her in,” she said exasperated. “As if I could stop her,” she said under her breath.

Truth be told, Iris was getting pretty good at foreseeing when Shaw would barge into her office. Oh, there was still the occasional surprise, like when she was on a conference call and it took Sameen a few minutes to realize she was otherwise engaged.  
But what Iris was really happy about was that she had managed to do a good job of keeping her professional life out of her personal life. Fusco was naturally curious about his friend Shaw, but no matter how he tried to ask … even saying things like …” _Suppose, hypothetically, you had an Axis II Personality disorder person with terrible manners and questionable eating habits_ …”... she never slipped.

The common thread, Iris found was Fusco asking her if Shaw complained about him in session and Shaw asking if he complained about her at home. More often than not, the two revealed more to Iris than she ever asked for.

* * *

Sure enough, within minutes, Sameen marched into the therapist’s waiting area and walked right through the door into the inner office. “Go ahead,” the secretary murmured from her desk, “Not like you’re afraid someone else is in there.” The woman was a stickler for keeping to the rules.

“I heard that,” Shaw yelled back and the woman jumped.  “I wouldn’t barge in like this,” Shaw said and both she and Iris knew that was an untruth. “But … ,” Shaw said, about to justify her rude behavior. “…. Those people, including your … you know,” she said, rolling her eyes because she didn’t want to say boyfriend to her therapist, “…. Are nuts.” Having laid out her case perfectly, she plopped down on the couch where she would wait to hear Iris’ game plan for fixing all of those people who upset her.

“Well, it just so happens I have time,” Iris said and picked up her pad and placed it next to the table adjacent to her seat. Shaw eyed the pad suspiciously. “How are you feeling?” Iris asked the woman who considered herself a consultant more than client.

Shaw stared for a second and then remembered that this woman had impeccable, albeit annoying, manners. She always started out by asking Sameen how she was. It was as if Sameen were in a foreign culture and there was simply no fighting it. “I’m ...okay. Aggravated that everyone seems to think I have something to do with their miserable lives being miserable.”

“Anyone in particular?” Iris asked.

“You want the list? Of course, you do,” Shaw said, thinking from the list, Iris would number them in ascending order of most needy of therapy. “Well, if you’re going to start with the craziest one, you might want to act fast because my sister is leaving.”

“Where is she going?” Iris asked, not yet reaching for the pad, but it was a matter of seconds.

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to ….,” Sameen laughed and realized this was not the place for that joke. She coughed a couple of times and sat up straight. “So, Root and I thought it might be a good idea for her and my mother to take a vacation, to recuperate. “

“Can you tell me about what happened?” Iris asked because she had heard the news about the club shooting and then about the discovery of the shooter in Brooklyn by Manhattan homicide detectives.

“Oh, get this!” Shaw said, and pointed to the pad because she thought this should _definitely_ go into Ayala’s file. “That ass was her ex-husband! I mean, I never stuck around long enough for there to be an actually breakup, but this girl went and married him. While he was undercover. And when she found out he was on the opposite side, she shot him. I’m sure there’s more to it because she doesn’t seem like the kind who would just shoot a man without reason or cause. Anyway, he followed her here and decided to pay her back. I shot him three times,” Shaw said, and the pride of those clean shots was extremely visible on her face.

Until she recalled where she was.

“Oh,” she said, thinking she just bought herself several more weeks of therapy for using her weapon.

“Tell me about shooting him,” Iris asked.

“Does this rule only apply to me? Every time I use my weapon, I end up in here. But when anyone else uses theirs, they don’t seem to have to come in,” Sameen noted.

“That’s not entirely true,” Iris said because she couldn’t divulge who took up the rest of her time when Sameen wasn’t in here. “Can you tell me how it felt?”

“To shoot him? I’m not going to lie, Doc; I am damn good. I fired that weapon before Detective Carter had her gun out of her pocketbook. I think even Zoe was impressed,” Shaw said, still on a high from how good she was.

“What were you thinking …,?” Iris attempted.

“You don’t’ think, Doc. You do. Someone is shooting at someone you care about, you just aim and shoot. If I thought about it, I might not have stopped shooting,” Sameen admitted openly.

“What happened next?” the therapist asked.

“What happens when something like this occurs? Chaos. Cops stormed in, they took my sister to the hospital, I threatened the EMT, they operated on her, NYPD lost the gunman…,” Shaw ranted.

“Where was Root when all this happened?” Iris asked.

“Where? She was next to me. I pushed her down. I was afraid …,” Sameen said and then heard the word she just uttered. “I made sure she was safe.”

“What were you afraid of?” Iris asked because the woman’s skills ran deep.

“Shit,” Sameen said, rolling her eyes at how the woman never missed a word she regretted saying. She wanted to ask how Iris did it, but that would have just taken up more time. “You know we’re getting off track here, right? I mean there are people out there who really need your help. They demonstrate it every day,” Shaw tried to get Iris off track.

It never worked.

“Can you tell me what you were afraid of?” the pit pull of therapy asked.

“I was a-fraid …,” Shaw said, the word taking longer to say than the others because of how sour it tasted,” … that Root would get hurt. It’s my job to protect her. I am her bodyguard, you know.”

“Were you acting as her bodyguard?” Iris asked, giving Shaw very little room to wiggle out of this.

“Of course I was,” Shaw said defensively. “If he came near Root, I would have killed him.”

“But he was after your sister,” Iris said calmly, aware of not agitating Sameen.

“His ex-wife. Who does that?” she asked sincerely.

“What was it like for you to see your sister hurt?” Iris asked.

“I was … angry. I needed to take … care of her. Which she hated, by the way,” Shaw explained.

“Why did she hate it?” Iris asked.

“Because she’s stubborn and thick headed and has to do everything herself,” Shaw answered quickly. Iris couldn’t help note the similarities. “But she couldn’t do anything, right? Because she’s all bandaged. So, I took care of it. We found her ex and we told him that ... he killed her,” Sameen said, and her throat tightened. “We didn’t want him looking for … her,” she said, because Iris had no idea that an Artificial Intelligence machine was at the heart of all of this. “So, that means Ayala and my mother should go away for a little while and Root offered her an island because the woman owns one or two.”

“I take it your sister and mother have agreed?” Iris asked.

“Well, they didn’t tell me of course, but from the sound of Martine, I think Ayala might have told her that they were going. No one tells me anything,” Shaw complained.

“How do you feel about them leaving?” Iris asked.

“Better than Martine, probably. I mean, look, they just appeared in my life and now they are disappearing, so … yeah, that’s life,” Shaw summed up in her _tougher than nails_ way.

“Are they disappearing?” Iris wondered out loud.

“Not disappearing, disappearing,” Sameen tried to clarify. “I will know where they are, I can talk to them, I guess.”

“What has it been like for you to have them come into your life,” Iris asked.

Shaw laughed that they were still talking about her, but the question gave her pause. She thought about how Azar barged back in without warning and how much she resented that and how it brought up old feelings, long buried. “it sucked at first,” Shaw admitted. “But … it’s been okay.”

“Are you worried about them?” Iris asked.

“Of course,” Sameen said quickly, “…they’re my family.”

A small smile appeared on Iris’ face to think of how hard Sameen worked at getting to this point. Shaw got it, but couldn’t help but think it was something the therapist did that got her talking about all of this.

“I have to go,” Sameen said, thinking she had already said enough. “You know we didn’t get to anyone out there who needs your help, right?” she asked and it was putting the onus on Iris. “I swear, just walk the hallways, Doc. You gotta get out there and see what’s going on,” Sameen strongly suggested.

“I will do that,” Iris said, thanking Sameen for coming in.

Sameen thanked the therapist, although she was pretty sure the therapist had sidetracked them and Iris was missing out on why she was there.

Dr. Campbell couldn’t have disagreed more.

* * *

Sameen decided she was her own to help the people that should have been on the couch. But where to begin? There were so many. She needed to be with Root to think this over.

Root waved her hand enthusiastically for Shaw to come into her office even though she was on a call with Harold. She pulled Sameen to seat down as she shouted to her uncle who was on speaker phone.

“Azar says the machine didn’t notify them of Raphael’s presence here, Harry, but it called the police before he entered the club. Something is either off or she’s hitting a blind spot,” she said and then kissed Sameen on the lips lovingly.

“I will look into its history files …,” Harold was suggesting.

“ _Her_ history files,” Root corrected him.

“ _Her_ … history,” he repeated.

Root thanked him and hung up. “Want to have lunch?” she asked her favorite carnivore as she ordered it from the company chef.

“Yes!” Shaw said, falling back on the couch. She explained to Root what a terrible morning she had. “I can’t say Dr. Campbell is refusing to help them,” Shaw admitted. “I mean, I guess she can’t hunt them down, but seriously, one of the practically lives with her,” she said of her good friend. “Oh, speaking of which, I told Lionel I would help him with his new exercise routine. So, tomorrow morning, you and I are going to drag his ass out of bed and take him for a run.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Root agreed. “I heard from your mother.”

“Great, while I’m stuck talking about her, she’s making play dates with you,” Shaw moaned.

Root tilted her head at the remark and smiled. “I only make play …dates with you,” she said, running her finger up the length of Sameen’s arm. “You have …,” Root said, noticing the blob of jelly on her chest.

“Oh, I’m surprised Janine didn’t suck it off. That woman was all over me before,” Shaw said in an unintended way.

“There will be no _sucking,_ unless it’s with me … ,” Root said trying to sound stern.

“Not what I meant and you know it,” Shaw explained.

“And I don’t want anyone _all over_ you,” Root teased as her hand spread out.

“Geez, you should be a therapist the way you catch every word I say,” Sameen grumbled.

“Oh, I would love to get you on my couch,” Root said, now allowing her hand to roam up Sameen’s leg.

“Root?” Shaw said, as Root got lost in the touch.

“Yes, Sameen?” Root answered as her eyes glossed over from the trace. There was a loud knock at the door and Root stopped. “Damn, they were fast,” she said of her lunch order.

“Is it something good? All I had after breakfast was donuts,” Shaw said.

“Yes, I noticed,” Root said, no moving to answer the door yet. “We can’t have you walking around in stained clothing, Sameen. We’re really going to have to get you out of that … “

There was no mistaking the intentional smile Root left Sameen with as she went to open the door.

Lunch was served and Root listened attentively as her girlfriend spilled her inner most thoughts and some of her food.

“She gets me to talk about me even when I tell her I’m in there to talk about everyone else,” Shaw complained and Root thought she couldn’t possibly pay Iris Campbell enough money, but she would give her a raise.

“Does she?” Root asked because it was rare that Sameen admitted she didn’t know how someone got her to do something.

“Yes, she does! I just said that,” Sameen said, not catching on. “Once, I’d like to see what is going on under that woman’s lab coat.”  She meant she wished she knew what made the therapist tick.

“She doesn’t wear a lab coat,” Root pointed out.

“Okay, Miss Literal; …Once I would like to see what is under her Brooks Brother’s suit,” Sameen corrected herself.

Root smiled to think that Sameen didn’t mean that literally.

But before twenty-four hours had passed, Shaw was going to get her wish granted.

And it would unnerve her to no end.


	61. I Spy With My Little Eye

Sameen avoided everyone she could that afternoon and only came out of hiding when Root was ready to go home. She had enough aggravation for one day and she wanted to give Iris a chance to track down the others so desperate in need of her help.

Janine had wished she could have found her boss, because she was concerned about their friend, whose mood did not improve the rest of the day. But Sameen was a trained operative who knew more evasive maneuvers than the rest of the team put together.

Even Reese couldn’t find her when he wanted to go over her new training gig.

* * *

When Azar finally called Sameen later that night, she informed her and Root that they would take them up on their offer to vacate New York for a bit.

“We could send Martine with them,” Root suggested as they lay in bed that night; Sameen watching sports, Root working on her program.

“Hey, that’s a great idea. And maybe we can send Janine to help them, and Reese can go and be brooding and humorless. You can’t get enough of that stuff,” Sameen said, more interested in the close score of the game.

“We should ask your sister,” Root thought out.

“Sure,” Shaw said, agreeing to almost anything that Root suggested if she would let her watch the sporting event.

“Then I thought we’d get matching tattoos,” Root said as a test.

“Uh huh,” Sameen uttered.

“My name … across your … chest…,” Root said, putting her laptop down and writing her name with her finger across Shaw’s breast.

“Okay, sure,” Shaw said until the words caught up and she realized what was going on. “Oh. I would do that,” the more agreeable Sameen said, turning off the game when Root turned her on.

Root would demonstrate where she thought Sameen could use a tattoo until she absolutely exhausted the woman. “It’s got to be bigger than your USMC one,” Root said, kissing the inside of Shaw’s arm and making the former marine melt.

* * *

The sun wasn’t through the window the next morning when Sameen was up, showered and ready to go.

“ _What_ …are we doing?” Root asked, rubbing her eyes as her girlfriend dragged her out of bed.

“We’re going to help Fusco keep his promise to exercise,” Sameen said, but she had a Cheshire like grin on her face.

“I assume you remember your CPR, Dr. Shaw?” Root said as she went into the bathroom and got ready.

“I cannot wait to see the expression on his face,” Shaw said with delight, tying her sneakers for the upcoming jog.

But Root’s mind was on what she just said. “Would you … wear a white coat if I got you one?” she asked, her fantasy unable to wait.

“Why would I do that?” Shaw asked, her one track mind on teasing her friend.

“Who better to play doctor with than a real doctor?” Root said, pointing out the obvious.

“Oh,” Shaw said and pointed out that she was no longer a licensed practitioner.

“I seriously don’t think that matters,” Root cooed.

“We .. have to get Lionel,” Shaw said, only able to think of one thing at a time.

“You have to go easy with him, Sweetie. I’m not sure how far he can go,” Root warned.

“I’m not going to drag him for blocks. Just motivate him a little,” Shaw said, but she was smiling too much.

Then, Root uttered a phrase that was so against everything Sameen stood for, she stopped in her tracks.

“Maybe we could have Isabelle make a _healthy_ _breakfast_ ….,” and she didn’t get to complete her thought.

“What? Healthy what? You want me to eat egg whites and granola? I mean, maybe we can add alfalfa sprouts and sing Kumbaya and hold hands,” Shaw ranted because in her world, all those things actually went together.

Root looked at her in amazement. “What did they do to you?” Root attempted to solve this riddle.

“I like to eat what I want,” Shaw explained as if that really did clarify it.

“Okay, no egg whites,” Root said, comforting her girlfriend.

“And no granola,” Shaw added, satisfied that Root understood.

“Can we hold hands?” Root asked, taking Sameen’s in hers.

“Just until we get to the street,” Sameen said, not wanting anyone to mistake that she was not on guard when it came to Root’s safety.

* * *

A little while later, the couple stood outside Fusco’s apartment door. “Okay,” Shaw said, taking her lock pick out and gaining entrance.

“Don’t you think we should at least give Lionel some warning that we’re kidnapping him?” Root suggested.

“No, that’s the best part,” Sameen decided. “If he’s afraid I’ll show up here any morning, he’ll do this on his own. Watch and learn.”

“We’re going to review your parenting skills before we have kids,” Root smiled.

A few seconds later, they were inside Lionel’s apartment.

“What about Lee?” Root asked, because her Camp Fire Girls’ skills were kicking in.

“He sleeps at his mother’s on Thursday’s,” Sameen informed her.

Root would never think of interfering with Sameen’s idea of fun, so she sat down on the kitchen table, put her feet up on a chair, grabbed an apple from the bowel in the center of it, and took a bite.

“Shhh,” Sameen said, slowly creeping towards the bedroom door.

Seconds later, as she suspected, Sameen found her friend unconscious in bed, covered by sheets and blankets. Even his head was buried under a pillow. “Let’s go, let’s go!” Sameen shouted and grabbed her pal’s ankles to pull him off the bed.

Nothing said morning like a Marine's friendly- _scare the hell out of someone_ – tactic.

Fusco pulled his legs back quickly, faster than Shaw expected and he got loose. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re getting up,” Shaw said, and grabbed his legs again. Shaw’s captive let out a blood curdling scream that even gave Sameen pause. “No offense to my gender here, Fusco, but you sound like a girl.”

“Sweetie?” Root called from outside as she walked to the bedroom.

This time Shaw pulled with all her might and pulled the body clear off the bed, blankets and all.

“Almost…got …him,” Shaw struggled, pulling the pile of blankets and Lionel up.  "I swear to God, you better not be naked under there," she teased as she pulled the blankets off.

“Sweetie?” Root said again and Shaw found her girlfriend’s insistence annoying.

“What?” Shaw said, twisting her head to look.

There was Root … and alongside her stood Lionel who stared at the situation unfolding before them.

“But …?” Shaw said, unable to figure out how Lionel could be standing there, if she just pulled him out of bed and was holding onto him. “You …,” she said, looking as she always did, to Root for the answer.

Root gave her shoulders a big shrug and raised her eyebrows. She knew it would only take a second for Sameen to deduce who she was actually holding.

“Oh … my … God,” Shaw said and let go of the body, causing the sheet to fall to the ground.  Iris screamed and tried to retrieve it.  “Lionel?” she said, stepping back and only now realizing how much smaller the person was.

“Shaw?” Lionel said slowly, but the smile was growing on his face.

Iris pulled the sheet back over her body, but Shaw was standing on the other end of it now and it barely covered her. 

“Doctor... Campbell,” Shaw said, her tone the same as if she had just run into Iris on the street. “Okay…,” she said, and walked backwards toward the door. “I’ll … just … you know, “ Sameen said, pointing to the exit and then grabbing the other end of the sheet to hand to Iris.

“Thank you,” Iris said, unsure of what she felt at the moment.  She had just been woken from a deep sleep and thought she was being kidnapped!

Fusco and Root stepped out of the way so Sameen could get through the door, which she then closed behind her.

* * *

“I bet that's not what you expected, Shaw,” Lionel said, because he was about to get Shaw back for everything she had ever done to him.

“Why aren’t you in there?” Shaw barked.

“I was out jogging, Shaw. I told you I have a new exercise regiment,” Fusco said and only then did Shaw look down at his outfit. His white legs stuck out from black shorts that were way too short.

Shaw shuddered. “Okay, it is too early in the day to see _that_ ,” she said.

“I bet that’s what Iris just said in there,” Fusco retorted.

“You were supposed to be in there,” Shaw said, and finally punched his arm.  "Not your naked girlfriend!"

“Hey, Cocoa Puffs, did you bring her muzzle?” Lionel asked because he was winded and couldn’t fight back.

“Lionel, play nice. Sameen, use your words,” Root suggested.

“Use my words?” Sameen said as she walked into the kitchen. “Okay, how about these. What the hell is she doing in your bedroom?” she asked and of course, that’s not what she really wanted to ask.

“I don’t have to answer that,” the detective stated. “I don’t have to answer that, do I?” he checked with Root.

“I think what Sameen meant was how surprised we were, pleasantly surprised, that you took the initiative to get up so early and jog,” Root said, choosing her words carefully.

“I thought you were going to be in there,” Shaw said, as if she needed to explain.

“Well, duh, Maybelline,” Fusco said, moving back in case Shaw struck again.

“Let’s go,” Sameen said to her partner in break-ins. “Don’t tell me you need my help with your exercise program if you’re going to do it all yourself!”

“I never … I didn’t …,” he pleaded his case to the more rational of the two women, but Shaw was already storming out.

“She wanted to help,” Root said, knowing that Lionel already knew that.

Before Lionel could say that he understood and that he appreciated Shaw’s good intentions, she was back in the doorway yelling for him to get longer shorts before he was arrested for indecent exposure.

“She should work for Hallmark,” he said of his friend’s rough manner.

* * *

Root walked outside and took Sameen’s hand. “That was … embarrassing,” Shaw admitted.

“Not for you,” Root said, because she always saw the positive for Sameen in things.

“I dragged …my ... naked ... therapist…,” Shaw reminded her in case she missed it.

“I know! You’re so strong,” Root gushed at Sameen’s feats of strength.

“Root! She weighs like a hundred pounds,” Shaw pointed out.

“A hundred and fourteen,” Root corrected her and Shaw stared at her, her expression clearly asking how Root would know that. “I read her file. Besides, she’s taller than you; like by two inches.”

As much as Sameen appreciated Root’s attempts for her to see the bright side of this situation, it was still a little fuzzy.

“Aarrgh, “ Shaw concluded.

“Let’s get breakfast,” Root said, knowing that soothing Sameen’s ruffled feathers would take some doing.

“Fine!” Shaw said, as if it were really something she needed to concede.

Root grabbed Sameen’s arm as they walked down the block. “You did say you wanted to know what was going on under that Brooks Brother’s suit of hers,” she teased.

Only Root could get away with kidding Sameen about her faux pas.

“Yeah, but what I got was a good look at Fusco’s legs. Geez, I don’t think they’ve ever seen the sun!"

* * *

By the time the couple had a hearty breakfast and arrived at work, Root was ready to offer her sage advice.

“I have to avoid Martine, Reese and now Doctor Campbell?” Sameen moaned because it was going to take too much energy.

“It’s like a band aid, Sweetie. The easiest way to do it is to just rip it off,” Root proposed.

“So … just talk to her?” Shaw reasoned.

“Sure, she’s a therapist. She’ll understand,” said the woman who had all the faith in the world in the counselor.

Of course, Shaw often used her words like she used weapons – taking a direct aim and making a lot of noise.


	62. Just Between Us

Shaw paced the inside of her cubicle as she figured out what to say to Iris, who would be appearing any moment. “ _Sorry I dragged you_ … no. _Sorry, doc, I thought you were Fusco_ ,” Shaw tried. She fell into her chair and put her hands in her head. “She is _so_ going to want to talk about why I broke into her boyfriend’s place,” she decided. “This is really all his fault. Stupid Fusco.”

“Doc’s here,” Janine announced, having been put on lookout patrol.

Sameen jumped up from her chair and quickly put her speech together. “Rip it off,” she motioned with her hands because this is what Root advised. Her rehearsed words were so close to the tip of her tongue that she didn’t wait until the therapist was in her office. In fact, the woman had just gotten off the elevator. The only thing that stood between Iris and the call to her own therapist to discuss how to handle this … was Sameen.

“Hey!” Shaw said, and put her hand … and body in the doctor’s way. “Oh, good, you’re dressed!” Shaw laughed and that was the first thing that caught the attention of people passing by. “So, that … must have been a surprise,” Shaw clapped her hands and prayed the next cohesive thought would follow. “Listen, I thought you were … you know … a guy I know,” she said, not wanting the world to know who Iris’ boyfriend was. “Well, not ‘a _’_ guy, but ‘ _the_ ’ guy …,” Shaw laughed and Iris decided she needed to stop her.

“Sameen, it’s okay really,” Iris tried and went to walk around the woman.

“Yeah, sure, but I didn’t want you to feel weird because I saw you … naked,” Shaw said and immediately knew that didn’t sound right. “I mean … you’ve seen me … naked …in an abstract sort of way …,” Shaw dug deeper. “That is … I pour my innermost feelings out to you. So, what’s the big deal if you poured your …out,” and Shaw’s hand swept in front of Iris to indicate her breasts.

“Oh, God,” Iris groaned, trying to get Shaw to stop talking.

“Not like I haven’t seen them,” Shaw continued. “Well, not yours of course.” The more Sameen tried to get this on track, the more she heard the collision sounds of a fifty car pile-up.

“It’s really okay… anyone could make that mistake,” Iris forced a smile on her face because now people were lingering near them to hear what the hell was going on.

“It was entirely your boyfriend’s idea,” Shaw tried to lay blame. “Well, not the breaking and entering part,” Shaw gave thought. “Or the dragging you naked out of bed.”

“Oh, my God, please stop talking,” Iris said softly.

“Well, Root said to rip it off like a band aid,” Shaw explained why she was insisting on talking.

“Okay, then,” Iris said, thankful it was over.

But it wasn’t.

“You know, I said I wanted to know what was going on under your Brooks Brother’s suit, but I never intended to actually _SEE_ what was …. you know,” Shaw tried to make light of it. “Under…,” and now even Sameen knew it wasn’t going smoothly. Now she had to think of a way to get rid of Iris who stood motionless. “Okay then,” Sameen said, patting both of the therapist’s shoulders and jerking her head for Iris to … well, move.

Iris nodded and bowed her head as she walked to her office.

* * *

Reese watched the entire scene play out. Knowing who Iris’ boyfriend was made things clearer for him. Obviously, Shaw had gone to his apartment and found Iris there. Without knowing the particulars, he just hoped it wasn’t during a romantic moment.

“Breaking and entering, Shaw?” John said when Sameen stood there feeling quite proud of how she handled that. John’s quip broke her reverie.

“You know, every time I try to help one of you, it gets me more trouble,” Sameen declared. “I hope you’re not here to ask me about our stupid training session.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I’m not,” Reese said, which surprised Sameen.

“Oh, good!” she said, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Why … aren’t you?”

“Because stubbornness runs deep in your DNA, Shaw and your sister is here, even though I told her she wasn’t ready,” Reese said, resigned to the fact that this woman was much like her sibling.

“She’s supposed to be in bed! The doctor only let her go because she promised them she’d rest. Oh, she is so stubborn. I’m thinking maybe we aren’t even related,” Shaw stammered. “We have _nothing_ in common.”

“Yeah, nothing,” Reese said and almost … sort of … not quite … smiled.

“I hope you don’t think there’s anything I can learn from her training sessions?” Shaw added.

“If you’re asking me if I want you in the same room as your sister … while there are innocent people there, then the answer is no,” and this time he did smile … for a second or two. Then he went to get the coffee he desperately needed.

* * *

“There isn’t enough alcohol to get me through this day,” Shaw bemoaned and turned to walk back to her desk when Fusco ran right into her. “Did you get fired from the NYPD months ago and are ashamed to tell us, because you are here a … lot!”

“Nice to see you too, 10-64,” Fusco said, but was looking past Shaw.

“Breaking and entering?” Shaw smugly asked, not thinking his reference was funny.

“ _Quality of Life incident_ – as in _trespassing_ ,” Fusco said, thinking his nickname was very clever. "It's only one of the  many things I could charge you with."

“Came to check on your girlfriend?” Shaw asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Fusco said, straightening his tie because he needed a reason to actually be there. “She ... uh … was really frightened this morning,” he said.

“Did she see you in those black shorts? Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to _un-see_ that, Fusco,” Shaw wisecracked.

“Very funny,” he said, but he was still looking down the hallway.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, so I saw your girlfriend naked. It could have been worse, you know,” Shaw explained.

“Really?” Fusco said, worried about Iris who couldn’t seem to make a coherent statement after he went back in to see her.

“Yeah, it could have really been you,” Shaw laughed at her own joke. “That was funny,” she added in case it wasn’t abundantly clear that she thought it was.

Fusco decided he did have a reason to be there. “You know, Shaw, I think I’m going to speak to your resident therapist on a profile I need.”

“Yeah?” Shaw said, because it was possible.

“Yeah, I need insight into what kind of person breaks and enters into another person’s home in an attempt to make him exercise, but instead, pulls his unsuspecting girlfriend out of the bed half naked,” Fusco theorized.

Sameen didn’t think he was serious, but she also didn’t want him using that as his excuse. “It wasn’t ... actually breaking and entering….,” she lied and Fusco put his hand out.

“Fine!” she said, handing over her lock pick set. Not like she didn’t have others. “How was I supposed to know your girlfriend sleeps nude?” she barked and now heads turned. “I mean ..how did I know you were actually going to follow through on exercising?”

There was no cleaning up this mess.

“Have a little faith, would you, Shaw?” Fusco asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sameen said, defeated.

“But hey,” Fusco said before he left. “Thanks. I know your heart was in the right place.”

“I almost had to eat egg whites and alfalfa sprouts for you,” Sameen shared, confusing her detective friend.

Fusco went off to see how Iris was doing. _She was still shook up when they were leaving earlier that morning. She kept assuring him …and herself … that it was really no big deal and that it was a mistake that anyone could make. But she knew that most people would not do what just happened. “What is important,” she told Lionel that morning, “…is how Sameen feels about all of this. I will get past the embarrassment, but I don’t want anything to interfere with her therapy.” “I think she knows you’re human,” he tried to assuage her worry._

Iris had just calmed down about it when she ran into Sameen.

* * *

The healthy food choices made Shaw remember that her vegan sister was there. She reminded herself that she wasn’t her boss, although technically she was senior to her. “Fine, let her pull out all her stitches,” she said under her breath as she walked to the conference room. ‘ _Don’t lecture, don’t lecture_ ,’ she repeated until she got there. “I thought the doctor told you to rest,” Sameen said and cringed that it sounded very much like a sermon. “I mean, are you okay to be here?” she recouped before her sister could be snarky.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m on the pain meds still, so I don’t feel it much,” Ayala lied.

The pain was evident in the younger woman’s face, but suddenly, it brightened and a more pleasant expression took its place.

“Hey,” Martine said, coming in with some of the others who were attending the workshop. Now Sameen understood the change in mood for her sister.

“Are you staying?” Ayala asked Sameen whose initial response was that she already had a tough enough morning with naked people, hypersensitive boyfriends, and the horrible thought of eating healthy, but she decided she wanted to hear her sibling speak.

“Yeah,” she said and took a seat in one of the back rows.

“Shaw,” John said as he sat down near her.

For the next hour, Ayala discussed the weaknesses in the BEAR security system and offered clever solutions. Then, she covered how to be on the lookout for digital interference in their structures. It was well thought out and people had a lot of questions for her at the end.

“I’d say she did one hellova job,” Reese said at the end to Sameen.

“Really, Reese? She’s _my_ sister. Did you doubt for a second that she wouldn't?” Shaw said, getting up and leaving.

“Not for a second,” John smiled and this time, you could actually see his teeth.

* * *

Shaw returned to her desk which was covered in messages and updates from her effervescent assistant. “Oh, and Ms. Groves wants to see you,” Janine smiled, knowing this would please her boss.

“I’ll come back to all of this later,” she said and went upstairs to see Root.

The woman was seated behind her desk, her two feet resting upon it, adorned in white bunny slippers with pink ears. Sameen looked over, and sure enough, Bear was chewing on his own pair.

“It could be worse, you could be wearing them,” she remarked to the canine when she passed him.

“Oh Sameen, your timing is perfect,” Root said, sat up and turned the screen to show her.

Scrolls of code flew up the page and Sameen had no idea what it was. “Great,” she said, hoping to avoid the long lecture on technical analysis.

“You have no idea what that is, do you?” Root surmised.

“No,” Shaw said, plopping down in the chair. “And if it means I have to wear those ridiculous slippers, too, I’d rather be kept in the dark.”

Bear groaned at the remark. “She’s jealous,” Root comforted him.

“Are you kidding me?” Shaw said. “Of those things?”

“No,” Root said, getting up and moving to sit next to her girlfriend. “You’re jealous because I know all the words to Kumbaya,” she laughed and sat back in her chair.

“Not cool, “ Sameen said, but had to smile at Root’s joke.

“I do have something to show you, though,” Root said, getting up and going back to her desk. The lilt in her voice told Sameen that she was excited about something that had to do with technology.

“Great,” Shaw said, so halfheartedly, Root took note.

“This,” she said touching a key on the keyboard. Suddenly, the scrolling stopped and numbers appeared. It finally slowed down and the number 58.3333333333333333 appeared. Root turned with a raised eyebrow, as if this was supposed to mean something.

“My chances of getting lunch?” Shaw asked of the percentage because that was on her mind.

There was a knock at the door. “Silly, that’s lunch now, so no,” Root said and the waiter brought in the food.

“I want to have your children,” Shaw said as an off handed response to how much she adored that Root knew to have food waiting.

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Root said, but Sameen was already ripping into the overstuffed sandwich.  “To get back,” Root said, aware of how hard it was to get her partner to focus when she was eating. “…this is the percentage the machine calculated as Martine’s success at being happy if she goes with your sister.”

Calculating one’s happiness was not an easy thing to do, electronically speaking. So, Root was very satisfied that she had written a program that could make the best approximation of the outcome of a situation based on that feeling.

“Can it tell me if the Knicks are going to win tonight?” Shaw wisecracked, but then noticed the serious look on Root’s face. This wasn’t parlor tricks she was dealing with. “Okay, so when we’re bowing down to your all-seeing, all-knowing over-lord, will I still get Parks Deli?”

Root hit a couple of keys to make it appear like she was actually asking the machine to calculate that. A string of zeros appeared, much to Sameen’s horror. “Not ..okay, not funny,” Sameen said, worried about the future of her meals in cyber world.

“I asked it what the chances were that you would _refuse_ to play doctor with me later, after making fun,” Root said, smiling smugly.

Shaw frowned, but for once that day, she didn’t say anything.

Root took a bit of her sandwich, but the smile on her face said it all.

Her doctor fantasy was going to come to fruition.

And with her favorite doctor.


	63. Kiss and Make It Better

Sameen knew immediately that Root was planning something big because she left work before her and told her to take the long way home. For Sameen, this meant, stop and get something to eat before you come home because whatever Root was planning, might delay dinner.

Sameen’s instincts were half right… dinner… wasn’t even on the menu that night.

“Do you want to send them flowers?” Janine asked before Sameen left that day.

“Flowers? Who is … _them_?” Sameen asked, confused.

“Well, let’s see ….,” Janine said, tapping the pad with her pen, “…obviously Doctor Campbell for dragging her …,”

“…. Okay, I know what I did,” Shaw said. “What would I even say on the card? ‘ _Nice to see you_?’”

Janine had to laugh. “Good one,” she said sincerely.

“I think I made my apologies … known,” Shaw said, not wanting to drag this out any further than she had dragged the woman.

“Very good,” Janine said.

“Hey, how is … Martine doing?” Shaw asked because the woman had not been around most of the afternoon.

“She left with your … Ayala,” Janine said. “She seems… down. I’m worried.”

“Tomorrow…,” Shaw said, meaning she had dealt with enough human issues for the day.

* * *

Shaw ran into Fusco and Reese downstairs. They invited her to go for a beer and since she wasn’t supposed to home yet, she accepted.

“I’m not going if we’re talking about what happened today, though,” Shaw warned them, and both men said ‘ _oh, sure’_ , but neither of them meant it. Sitting Shaw in-between them was their way of getting ready to tease the life out of her.

“You won’t be breaking into my apartment, will you Shaw?” John asked, sipping his drink.

“Very funny,” Shaw said, knowing the two men couldn’t help themselves. “Where do you even live, John?”

“I’m not telling you, now. I mean, my girlfriend carries a gun,” Reese teased.

“Okay, okay, have your fun,” Shaw said, downing her drink.

The two men did just that; trading barbs at their friend’s expense, who remarkably, took it all in stride. She knew she would have done the same thing if one of them did what she had done.

“Well, I hate to break up your bromance, fellas,” Shaw said and both men protested that they weren’t done and had lots more material to use, but Shaw’s phone kept beeping.

“Sorry, guys, “ Shaw said, getting up from the stool. “I have a _doctor’s_ appointment.”

“Well, I doubt it’s with your therapist,” Fusco laughed.

“Actually, I’m not the patient this time,” Shaw said, smiling haughtily and raising one eyebrow. Root had just sent her a picture of white coat and stethoscope.

* * *

‘ _I’m not sure I remember how to use that thing,_ ’ she typed back.

‘ _Again_ ,” Root explained, ‘…. _I really don’t think that will spoil the fun. We’ll just …pretend… you remember._ ’ Shaw shook her head and smiled as she made her way out of the bar.

Sameen thought she knew how to play this game, but she was about to find out that Root had professional gaming skills that would take this to a whole new level.

‘ _So, what am I, a general practitioner? A surgeon?_ ’ Shaw typed as she walked along the street.  The answer was immediate and when Shaw read what Root had written, her hands fumbled, and the phone went flying. “Geezus, Root!” Shaw said, bending down to find her phone and looking around as if everyone just saw what she read.

* * *

Now, Shaw was expecting Root to do things in her usual manner – with great enthusiasm and creativity, so she wasn’t surprised when she entered the apartment and there was the white coat laid out on the table.

“Okay, we’re really going to do this,” Shaw said to herself. She noticed the living quarters were silent. No smell of dinner being prepared, no sign of her canine roommate. She thought about how understanding and willing Root was when she set her mind on something, so she decided to play along. Rather than put on the coat over her t-shirt and pants, she went to get changed.

Along with the coat, was a note, which Sameen started to read as she walked upstairs.

‘ _Doctor Shaw, your last patient of the day is waiting for you in the examination room,_ ’ Shaw read as she undressed and put on a new black t-shirt and short black skirt, with heels. “Oh, brother,” she said as she put her white doctor’s coat on. Only then, did she notice it had her last name embroidered on the pocket. She picked up the note again. ‘ _Doctor, please pick up your medical bag before seeing the new patient,_ ’ it read and Shaw scoffed. “What did you buy… one of those kid’s bags with the plastic thermometer?” she asked no one. Much to her surprise, when she opened the closet where the note instructed her to go, there was a black doctor’s bag with Shaw’s name on it. “When does she have time to do all _this_?” she wondered out loud. She opened the bag, saw the contents and slammed it shut, her eyes widened. Now… that…was a surprise. “Oh, I should have known this was going to be over the top,” she said, shaking her head. Taking a deep breath, she went back to the note, bag in hand and read the next step. ‘ _Your patient is waiting in the exam room,_ ’ it read.

“Where the hell is that?” Shaw said and called out to Root, but there was no answer. “Where the hell could she be?” Shaw said when she looked down to the floor and saw tiny arrow markers on the carpet, pointing down the hallway. Shaw followed them and they stopped outside one of the unoccupied guest bedrooms. Sameen approached the door and looked; sure enough, there on the door was a plaque that read; _Exam Room_. Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head.

When Root acted on a fantasy, she made it very authentic.

Shaw cleared her throat, trying to remember what she sounded like when she was a doctor. She put the stethoscope around her neck and pulled on the lapel of her white coat. “I remember that much,” she mused. Getting her opening line ready, she pushed open the door and said, ”So, what brings here today …..,” and then she stopped and looked up.

The bedroom had been completely transformed … into the closest thing Root could imagine an examination room would look like. Shaw’s head jerked around as she looked at cabinets with supplies, a stool with wheels, and of course, there in the middle of the room sat Root …. On a medical table, in a blue paper gown.

“Root?” Shaw said, but Root introduced herself as Samantha Groves. “Root?” Shaw repeated as she took in all the medical paraphernalia in the room.

“I know it’s late, Doctor Shaw, and your nurse said she had to leave …leaving us _all alone_ here, but I just _had_ to come in and see you,” Root said in a voice that Sameen hardly recognized.

Shaw was going to have much more trouble getting into and staying in character, but Root already knew that. “What?” Shaw said, coming back to Root.

“I really _needed_ to come in,” Root repeated slowly, her body moving slightly.

“Oh, yeah, sure, what seems to be the problem?” Shaw asked and her tone was really asking Root if that was the next question. Root’s lines seem to fly off her tongue, whereas Sameen was fumbling for hers. But, just because Root had prepared everything, didn’t mean she was ready to see Sameen decked out in the doctor’s coat. She bit her lip when she saw how well Sameen filled out that coat and was more than pleased that Sameen had changed.

“I’m here for my annual physical,” Root cooed, and her eyes smiled way before her lips did because every part of her wanted this.

“Oh, like …a checkup,” Shaw said, trying to get into her part with the same finesse some people have when struggling to get into tight jeans.

“A _complete_ checkup, “ Root emphasized, in case there was any doubt.

“A complete, well, okay then, let’s see,” Shaw said, her voice cracking. She reached into her bag and took out the tongue depressor. “Let’s start up here,” she said and approached Root who opened her mouth immediately. She placed the wooden stick on Root’s tongue and looked in with the light. “It all looks good,” Shaw said, and Root took the stick, licked it and gave it back.

Shaw’s brain was operating like Bear when he tried to run on the floors after they were polished. She tried to keep up with Root, but she was slipping and sliding all over the place.

“I guess you want to take my blood pressure,” Root said, looking over at the cuff and monitor on the wall.

“I remember how to do that,” Shaw said, caught between the reality of having been a doctor and the fantasy she had been signed up for. She took the stethoscope from around her neck and put the cuff on Root’s arm. She proceeded to pump it to get an actual reading. Shaw was truly behaving like a physician, and Root couldn’t have been more enamored with her.

Root had an easier time staying in her role as the patient, so willing to put herself in the doctor’s hands.  “You come highly recommended, by the way,” she said to Shaw.

“Is that right?” Sameen said, actually concentrating on getting a blood pressure reading.

“Oh yes, all my friends say you give the most _thorough_ exam,” the patient said and Shaw wanted to smile and tell Root how good she was.

“Sure, well, they like me until they get the bill,” Shaw quipped. “One-thirty over eighty-four,” she said and took the attachment off Root’s arm. “That seems high. Do you feel anxious?” Shaw asked because doctors often attributed some anxiety to the white coat syndrome.

“If by _anxious_ ,” Root said, playing with a long curl of her hair, “…you mean _excited_ , then … yes.”

Shaw wondered how Root came up with these lines. She stood there, unsure of her next move.

“Do you want to hear my heartbeat?” Root asked, her tone was so sexy that it gave Sameen complete pause. Root absolutely delighted in Sameen’s awkward hesitation because it told her so much. Shaw rarely did anything she wasn’t good at, but she kept at this.

“Yes,” Sameen said and took the stethoscope again.

“Do you think… you can warm that up before you put it on me?” Root asked seductively and lifted the round diaphragm near Sameen’s mouth. “Just…blow on it, maybe?” she suggested to the woman who had stopped breathing.

Shaw let out a shot of warm breath and proceeded to check Root’s heartbeat. She slipped the stethoscope into the gown without opening it. Her heart rate, too, was slightly elevated, but nowhere near where it would be later. “Strong heartbeat,” Shaw said.  
Root bit her bottom lip to have Sameen’s hand touching her.

“I guess you’ll want to start with a breast exam, seeing how you’re already ….there?” Root said as if she weren’t leading her horse directly to water.

“A what? Oh, sure, that’s what we do,” Shaw said and Root slowly opened her gown. “Oh,” Shaw said, because the site of Root sitting there was definitely distracting her.

Root needed to keep Sameen focused because she wanted to see this whole fantasy through to the end. She leaned over and whispered into Shaw’s ear; “First one to break out of character … loses.”

“What?” Shaw said because she was having trouble switching gears. Root tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. She had just tapped into her partner’s competitive self.

Sameen _hated_ to lose …at anything.

“Do you want me to stay sitting up … or do you want me to lie down …while you do the … _complete_ … exam?” Root asked seductively.

“Huh?” Shaw asked, because she was getting lost in her roles as doctor and girlfriend. She wasn’t sure which Root wanted. “Sure, lie down,” she said and Root did as she was instructed.

Root put her arms over her head, giving Shaw complete access to two of her favorite body parts. “Do you…,” Shaw started to ask as she placed her two hands on Root’s left breast. “Do self-exams? They’re very important in the early detection of …uhm, breast cancer.”

Root smiled to think Shaw’s left logical brain was scrambling to remember her physician talk while her right emotional side was making her pupils dilate with extreme desire.  “I’m not sure I know how to do them,” Root said innocently as Shaw’s hands manipulated her flesh.

“Like .. this,” Shaw demonstrated, her muscle memory taking over because they had learned how to search for small masses in medical school.

“You’re very good at this, Doctor,” Root teased. “Have you had a lot of experience?”

“Yes,” Shaw answered, but then remembered she wasn’t ever a gynecologist, “No, I mean, not really.”

“You’d never guess it from the way you’re doing it,” Root cooed.

“This is harder than I thought,” Shaw said, faltering between her roles.

This play acting seemed to come naturally to Root, who believed reality was a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there permanently. She took Sameen’s hands in hers. “You have very skilled hands, Doctor.”

“Well…,” Shaw said, thinking maybe they were done. “…you’re in …(cough)… very good health.” She put her hands back in the large pockets of the white coat.

Root smiled because she was far from done. “Actually, I’ve been having a personal issue,” Root segued.

“Isn’t that usually handled by a therapist?” Shaw said, having learned that much just from working at BEAR.

“Oh, not my head …,” Root said in a breathy tone and took Shaw’s hand and slid it down her body. “Here,” she said, patiently.

“What…,” and there were several seconds before Sameen continued with, “…kind of issue?” Her hand could feel the warmth of Root’s body in response to this playing.

Then Root, in part because she was teetering on the edge herself and because she didn’t want Sameen to suffer too much from her first adult fantasy, pulled Shaw closer and said, “…I haven’t been able to … you know … in weeks. Do you have …anything in your bag, Doctor Shaw, that might help me … you know?” and Root looked directly down in the area of Shaw’s hand.

Shaw’s brain scrambled to remember what was in the bag. “A plastic thermometer?” she queried, because that didn’t seem right.

Root bit her lower lip because Sameen could not have been more adorable if she tried. “I was thinking of the… other … larger object …,” she said of the vibrator.

That was it. Shaw couldn’t do it anymore.

“Root…,” she said, ripping off her white coat and ending the game. “I can’t …,” she admitted defeat.

And then she said something that would turn Root on more than anything had up to that point.

“I need you,” Shaw said, and pulled off her t-shirt and stepped out of her skirt, and in one move, straddled Root on the table. She stared down and before Root could say anything, she smothered Root’s mouth in a hard, long kiss.

“Oh, Doctor,” Root squealed … several times as Sameen healed her body like only a loving girlfriend could.


	64. Learning the Ropes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just thought ...what would happen if Root weren't always so calm and reasonable?

Root had only one regret after playing that fantasy to its fullest; she should have put a bed in the play examination room. Truly though, it didn’t deter Sameen from utilizing the limited space to the best of her abilities. And if Root were going to change one more thing for next time, it might be the paper protector on the table underneath them. That … was annoying. But she hardly noticed once Sameen thoroughly examined and touched her body, healing things the good doctor had no way of knowing she was touching because they were buried so deep in Root.

Now, lying in each other’s exhausted arms, smiles on each of their faces, they rested.

“Well, that didn’t suck*,” Sameen said of her first real fantasy enactment.

“Oh, there was plenty of sucking*,” Root answered, certain her body would show the marks. “Are you telling me you never had sex with any of your patients?”

You know that old saying about not asking a question you really don’t want the answer to?

“Patients, no,” Shaw said truthfully and unaware of the above mentioned rule that Root had just broken.

“Oh,” Root said and was surprised that Sameen’s response actually pierced at her heart. Of course there were others. Hadn’t she met Cole? She knew there were others, but in that room where she had just let her guard down and lay bare with her lover, that realization seemed a little jagged. ‘ _Silly,_ ’ Root told herself and pushed the jealous feeling aside. For now.

“So, was this really your first fantasy that you acted out?” Root asked, playing with Sameen’s ponytail.

‘No,” she answered. “Every day I go to work, I fantasize about people leaving me alone and not being crazy. It never works out as good as this one did, though,” she smiled.

“I bet you’re hungry,” Root said and Sameen said she thought she could eat something. “You already did,” Root whispered as she got up and put a robe on. Sameen shook her head and rolled her eyes at the corny joke.

“I’m surprised you didn’t equip this with stirrups,” Sameen said of the examination table, sitting up now and getting dressed.

“They’re on back-order,” Root explained.

“Of course,” Shaw said, smiling at how Root thought of everything.

“I asked Isabelle…,” Root was explaining when Shaw jumped off the table and hugged her.

“I knew you would,” she said, grateful there were food plans.

* * *

Now, most people wouldn’t want to sit near Shaw when she ate because of her…how shall we put it? …lack of table manners? But Root couldn’t get enough of watching those lips and mouth devour things.

“They were so _childish_ ,” Shaw said, mouth full of barbecued chicken that she thought you had to die and go to heaven for. Isabelle had to get a recipe since she never made this for Root before. “ _Are you going to break into my house_?” she mocked Reese in a deep voice. “I should! Just to teach him a lesson.”

“Hmm,” Root said, eating her perfectly cooked salmon and rice and thinking that would be a terrible idea.

“They’re the brothers I never wanted,” Shaw continued her rant and licking the barbecue sauce off her finger. “Speaking of unwanted siblings, have you heard from my sister?”

Root watched as Sameen took a homemade biscuit and devoured it. “This woman can do no wrong,” Shaw said of the chef.

“It’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type,” Root pointed out, not sure that was completely true. “And no, I haven’t.”

“Seriously, Root,” Shaw said, her mouth full, but still with a little room left to insert her foot, “…if I _ever have to leave_ , I’m taking her with me.”

Now, let’s look at Shaw’s words a minute.

This was a woman whose average relationship was twenty-four to forty-eight hours. She had no attachments to most humans before meeting Root. So, while her heart was in the right place, her vocabulary was somewhat archaic. In other words, Shaw’s words were out of date for where she was now.

“Excuse me?” said Root in a very unfamiliar tone. Her voice was rarely laced with jealousy or hurt, so it took Shaw a minute …okay, several, to catch on.

“What?” Shaw asked, certain she had tuned out a sentence or two.

“If you ever _HAVE TO_ leave?” Root asked, dead serious.

“What do you mean?” Shaw asked because she wasn’t listening to what she said. She was too busy eating.

“You said …and I quote,” Root retorted, putting her fork down and staring right at Sameen, “… _if I ever have to leave, I’m taking her with me_. End quote,” Root said, using her fingers to indicate the speech marks.

“Oh, I hate when people do that,” Shaw moaned …and still not getting it. To be fair, Sameen had so little experience with Root being sensitive to something that it just didn’t dawn on her. Yet. “Just say, I’m going to repeat back what you said,” Shaw suggested. “You don’t have to put it in air quotes.”

“Apparently,” Root said and Sameen started to notice the tone. “I do!”

Root had just spent the last couple of hours in exquisite ecstasy where she laid her heart and body bare to her lover. Just because she wasn’t the mason Shaw was at building walls, didn’t mean she didn’t have them and she was feeling more vulnerable having just experienced new emotional heights with Sameen.

Lovers’ spats was on Shaw’s ‘ _not to do_ ’ list. She interpreted them as clingy and needy. But this was Root. The most un-clingy, un-needy person she knew. So, she was really at a loss.

“Did I say … something?” Sameen guessed.

“Never mind,” Root said, already feeling like this would go nowhere.

“No, wait,” Shaw said, and she stopped eating … as if that wasn’t one of the biggest signs to Root of how much she cared! “You seem… uhm,” she said, trying to find the word for it since it was the first time she was using it. “Very …un-Root like,” Sameen decided.

“You mean …not calm and accepting of everything?” Root said and Sameen said, “Yeah, that’s it.” Finally, Sameen thought, they were on the same page. “If you _have to_ leave?” Root repeated because she knew Sameen still didn’t get what this was all about.

“Oh, that?” Sameen said, finally getting that was what upset Root …the third time she said it. “I just meant… if you…I didn’t mean really… I meant… look!” Sameen said, trying to get herself out of this. So, what did she do? She dug deeper. “Who knows what tomorrow brings, right? I mean, I’m here, you’re here. Suppose you aren’t here or suppose you want me to leave?” she tried, but that didn’t sound right. ‘GET TO THE POINT’ her brain yelled. “I just was saying I would miss Isabelle.”

Nope! That wasn’t it. Not even close.

“Sameen!” Root said, trying to get her lover to THINK! “You would… _miss_ … Isabelle?” she asked the woman, missing the point.

Now, Root knew what Sameen meant, and on most days, she would have untangled the mess for Shaw and taken it in stride. Today… was not one of those days. Root was uncharacteristically moody. Perhaps in realizing how absolutely wonderful she felt in having Sameen in her life, she worried just the tiniest bit if Sameen felt the same way. It was the seed of doubt that ordinarily wouldn’t have sprouted, but at the moment, Sameen was digging herself and that tiny seed deep into fodder.

“Well, wouldn’t you miss her?” Sameen argued.

“Aarrgh!” Root said, feeling unsettled, foolish and hurt. She got up and went inside, leaving Shaw to sit there and wonder what the hell just happened.

* * *

“Where is that stupid dog when you need him?” Sameen said, wishing someone could explain this. She got off her seat and was about to rush inside when she decided, maybe, just maybe, she should think this through. “I could call Doc Campbell, but she might have my number blocked… today,” she said out loud when she contemplated who to call. “Fusco will say it’s my fault before I even tell him what happened. Reese will say – ‘Nice going, Shaw’,” she concluded. “Janine…no,” she decided. She caught sight of her USMC tattoo on her arm and decided that a woman who had been in as many skirmishes as she had, had to be able to maneuver through a lover’s quarrel. If, in fact, that’s what this was. So, she did what any well trained military person would do when it came to affairs of the heart that confused her.

She called her mother.

“Mom?” Shaw whispered into the phone.

“Are you okay?” Azar answered back. She could hear the hesitation in Sameen’s voice.

“Yes, I’m fine. Look, do you know … Ayala isn’t there, is she?” she asked to be sure.

“No, she’s out with …,” Azar tried, but was cut off.

“Okay, good. Listen, do you know anything about … when someone you’re with is upset about something you said, and you didn’t mean it that way, but when you tried to explain it, they seemed to take that the wrong way, too?” Shaw asked as if she were asking if Azar knew how to program TIVO.

Azar hesitated only a moment before she said, “Go apologize, Sameen.”

“Wait. What?” Shaw barked in a whisper because if she wanted blame, she could have called any of the people on her list from before.

“Whatever was said, whatever was misunderstood is not worth the time you will lose in trying to straighten it all out. Apologize to Samantha and ask her to explain what she was feeling. This is a woman you would lay down your life for, is it not?” her mother asked.

“Yes, of course,” Sameen said, having proven that point. “But…,” the inexperienced partner started.

“Then what is a little pride where she is concerned?” Azar asked.

“Yes, but ….,” Sameen argued because being told she was wrong and this was a knee-jerk reaction.

“You do not want to waste time, Sameen, on foolish things like pride,” the older woman advised because she had learned these lessons the hard way.

There was dead silence for a minute until Sameen relinquished and said, “Fine.”

Her mother smiled as she hung up to think that finally, her daughter was learning what it took to make a relationship work. All those years of being afraid of giving her heart to anyone and now she was learning how to do it with the love of her life. Still, she had to navigate the bumps; especially, from what she told Azar, ones she created.

* * *

Sameen hung up, shoved the phone in her pocket and went inside. She thought over what had happened and realized that, just perhaps, she had chosen her words unwisely. She didn’t think anything threatened Root, so it surprised her that this did. Root was sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow up to her chest and feeling sorry for the way she snapped.

Sameen came over and sat next to her, facing her. “Root, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out,” she started.

“I’m sorry, Sameen,” Root said, having needed less time and guidance in this art. “I just felt..upset that you would talk about leaving.”

Sameen had never seen Root worried about their relationship. She was always the steady one, sure of everything. “I am not going anywhere,” Sameen assured her, taking her hands and staring in her soft brown eyes. “I will never leave you, Root,” promised Sameen. “That was … I’ve never been here before,” she said honestly.

Root could feel the sincerity with which Sameen spoke those words. “Me neither,” Root said, pulled Sameen into a hug.

“I just …say things like that, to be funny,” Shaw explained. “I don’t mean it.” Then she sat up and looked again at Root. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

Root swore she could hear the clatter of Sameen’s last pieces of armor coming off. She had already proven how far she was willing to come out of her comfort zone for Root. Now, she was backing down and apologizing. “Do you know how much I love you?” Root asked, her smile returning to her face.

“Yes,” Sameen answered, but it wasn’t her confident tone. “I know because it’s what I feel for you.”

Root pulled Sameen by her shoulders, kissing her hard on the lips and making Shaw’s head spin and the heat reignite in her body.

Maybe making up wasn’t so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Borrowed these lines, but you knew that.


	65. Making a Statement

Sameen woke the next day with an idea that she thought Root would love. She snuck quietly out of bed and searched the leather doctor bag. She wondered if her very detailed girlfriend would think to make a mock prescription pad… and there it was! She grabbed it and scribbled something on it just as Root started to wake. Sameen scurried back to bed, jumping on it and closing her eyes, as if she were just waking up, too.

“Oh, you’re awake?” she asked Root, trying to act nonchalant, a feat not easy for the woman.

“I am so lucky to wake up to your face,” Root shared her thought, having had the most blissful sleep the night before.

“Listen, your test results are back,” Sameen said, because she was trying to stay in her role.

“Oh? Is everything okay?” Root feigned worry. It was a dream come true that Sameen would keep the charade up.

“Well, nothing to be too alarmed about, but you will have to take some precautions and we will have to monitor you,” Shaw said, unable to keep the smile off her face as she handed Root the paper.

Root practically squealed when she looked at it. “Oh, let’s see...,” she said, reading the script. “Oh gosh, Doctor Shaw. At least… _three_ times… a day?” she tried to sound alarmed.

“At least,” Shaw said having made up the sexy remedy for the pretend diagnosis.

“But… _where_ will I find someone … qualified enough … to perform this … procedure?” Root asked innocently.

“Well,” Shaw said, dragging her hand up Root’s thigh as she faced her in bed, “…I do make house calls.”

“Oh, God,” Root said, her eyes closing from the intense electric buildup in her core. This was the difference between Shaw following Root’s fantasy …and Shaw creating the fantasy. Root’s body shuddered as Sameen’s hand grazed her skin.

“Of course, I have to charge extra … for those treatments,” Shaw added slowly.

Had that barter been real, Root would have signed over her millions to the good Doctor. No questions asked.

“I’m not sure … I can… afford them,” Root fibbed, but had trouble getting the last couple of words out because she was …well, breathless.

A knowing look, a raised eyebrow greeted Root as Sameen smiled devilishly and said; “Oh, I’m sure we can work something out.”

With that, Sameen initiated her first treatment and within minutes, Root was holding onto the sides of the bed and screaming her gratitude for the doctor’s skilled hands.

Root may have initiated the doctor-patient fantasy, but Sameen had just made it real.

“I think …,” Root gasped when the electric charge started to subside slowly, “…I think…,” she tried again.

“Yes?” Sameen smiled down at her, as she kissed Root’s dampened forehead.

“I need more treatments,” Root got out.

“Well, lucky for you,” Sameen said, getting more and more comfortable in her role, “…I’m on call today.”

* * *

The women eventually made their way to the kitchen where Isabelle assessed their collective mood as almost giddy. “Wow,” she said to Root as Sameen went to get her jacket, “Ms. Shaw must have really enjoyed that chicken.” The woman laughed at her own joke, not waiting for her boss to explain it was something else entirely that had them so happy.

Shaw was in such a good mood, that she was certain not even her crazy coworkers could ruin it. The lovers teased about what was on their agendas for that day as they rode up in the elevator.

“I have some important … _appointments_ ,” Root said, rising on the ball of her feet as she stared ahead, looking at the floors light up. “Can’t be disturbed.”

“Yes, I have a couple, too,” Shaw said, looking at her phone.

“Will they take long?” Root asked, staring straight ahead.

“Based on … the data collected from the first one, I’d say … not long,” Shaw smiled boastfully.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Root tried to maintain her composure as they neared Sameen’s floor. “I’ve heard conditions have to be just right for any duplication of …results.”

One look at Root and Shaw knew she was making that up. “Oh,” Shaw said, smiling seductively as she went to exit, “I’m pretty sure I can duplicate those conditions …and more.” Her breath was warm, her tone was low, and the whole exchange make Root’s knees weak.

It most the most salacious Shaw had ever been in public. Root held onto to the bar as the elevator door closed. Sameen was thrilled at how effective she could be.

* * *

Shaw wouldn't wait to visit Root later that morning.  This would explain why Sameen was so caught off guard when she turned to see the police standing there. Not her detectives, mind you, but two detectives from the Brooklyn precinct where Rafael Dubois’ residence was.

“Ms. Shaw?” the woman asked and flashed her badge. “I have it on good authority that you’re a consultant for the NYPD in Manhattan. Is that correct?”

It took Sameen a full minute to pull herself back from her reverie with Root to the fact that some unknown detectives were greeting her.

“What? Yeah, I have been, yes,” Sameen said, her brain scrambling to figure out why they were there.

“Okay, in that case, I’m extending you the courtesy of speaking to you here,” the older woman said, dressed in a dark grey suit and dark blouse. “Is there _somewhere_ … private we can go?”

“In this place?” Sameen answered, because her head was still running on empty.

These two women may have been NYPD detectives, but Sameen Shaw had her own guard dog. And it wasn’t Bear.

“EXCUSE ME!” Janine shouted when she saw the two women speaking to her boss. “Do you have an appointment?” she barked from down the hallway as she approached quickly. The second policewoman turned and flashed her badge.

“Official business, ma’am,” she said to the overzealous assistant.

“Ms. Shaw?” Janine asked, because she was not intimidated that this was official business by the police if they were bothering her boss. “What do you want me to do?”

Sameen wanted to say …’ _disappear_ ’, but she had to admire the woman’s brass tactics. “It’s okay, Janine. Perhaps coffee for the de-tec-tives?” she asked and annunciated their title to make sure the woman knew it was no joke.

“No, thanks,” the senior woman said. “This won’t take long. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Sameen showed them to the empty conference room. She had no sooner closed the door than her assistant went into action. First, she called Root. Then, she called Reese. Then, she called Fusco to ask why he wasn’t there. Then, she called Martine to make sure she knew where Ayala was. “Damn, if she doesn’t have something to do with this,” Janine said, taking her boss’ side.

* * *

“What can I do for you?” Shaw said, as the three women sat down.

“Ms. Shaw…,” was all they got out before the door flew open and Root was standing there. Sameen was intimately aware of Root’s exact height and weight, but somehow she filled the doorway right now.

“Does she need a lawyer?” Root asked and came in and shut the door.

“And you are?” the younger detective asked and of course she knew who she was, but wasn’t sure what capacity Root was in at the moment.

“The one asking the questions,” Root snapped and Sameen had a feeling Root may have watched too many cop shows. “Why isn’t Detective Fusco or Detective Carter here?” she asked, walking over to stand by her seated girlfriend.

“Because Ms. Groves,” the senior cop said snidely, “The homicide happened in Brooklyn, and that’s where _we_ work.”

“What homicide?” Shaw asked and put her hand up and took Root’s so she’d sit down.

“Were you familiar with a Mr. Rafael Dubois?” the senior cop asked.

“He…shot my sister in a nightclub the other night. I returned fire,” Shaw said, knowing what to say and what not to say.

“She was brilliant,” Root said, erring on the side of not knowing what to say.

“Yes, ballistics showed it was your gun,” the detective confirmed and smiled at Root.

“He died from those injuries?” Shaw asked.

“No, Mr. Dubois escaped in an ambulance that night and returned home to his Brooklyn residence. His crew managed to get him some pain medication and blood transfusions, but …someone visited him there and inquired into his actions. The cops were called from an untraceable number and alerted that there was suspicious activity at the house. In fact, we were fortunate enough to have some of your friends from the midtown precinct in the area and they were on the scene before we were,” the older Detective said slowly to Shaw.

Shaw was smooth as glass under pressure.

“What does this have to do with Shaw?” Root asked, because she was not smooth when someone was looking hard at her girlfriend.

Shaw was convinced between Root and Janine, the detectives might think it was better to conduct their investigation in their own offices.

“Well, Mr. Dubois was transported to the hospital in Brooklyn and his lawyer got his crew off with bail. But while the suspect was in his hospital bed, under police watch, someone …accidently or not accidently, gave Raphael an overdose through his intravenous tube, “ she explained.

“He’s dead?” Shaw asked.

“Pretty much,” the cop answered.

“What does this have to do with Shaw?” Root asked again and this time, Sameen slipped her hand onto Root’s leg because she could see the woman was about to pounce.

_You would think that Root might remember her fingerprints were all over the place. But she was singularly focused on Shaw._

“When Dubois passed, we started to ask questions around the neighborhood. Someone saw suspicious activity at his house the day the cops were called. Someone saw a woman who might fit your description, Ms. Shaw, and heard a car screeching away,” the detective said and Sameen immediately squeezed Root’s leg to keep quiet. Thankfully, Root knew what Sameen meant.

“But the funny thing was…,” the detective said and Shaw knew if they were quiet long enough, there might be a punch line. “When we accessed the neighborhood traffic cams for the location that the neighbor gave us, there was no sign of anyone.”

“I thought it was rival gangs or something?” Shaw asked in an even, calm tone.

“Yeah, we thought that. We were just wondering how one of them could have gotten into the hospital last night to administer the overdose,” the other detective pointed out.

Sameen was thanking her lucky stars that the traffic cams weren’t operational, but Root had another suspicion. “What about hospital cameras?” the tech genius asked.

“Someone did something to the cameras on that floor. Now, that might take someone who knew a thing or two about computers, don’t you think, Ms. Groves,” and now it was easy to see that the detective had already connected the Root and Shaw dots.

“Not necessarily,” Root answered. “But I will tell you what does take a certain eminence grise, and that is scrubbing a video clean of any interference. Can you get that hospital tape?”

“Yes,” the detective said wondering if one of her possible suspects could actually help them.

“Let’s see who your killer is then,” Root said smiling confidently.

* * *

Reese was outside the elevator waiting for Fusco and Carter. The two of them looked like bulls in a Waterford Crystal shop as they bounced ideas and their bodies around trying to figure out what to do.

“It’s _their_ territory,” Carter pointed out.

“She’s _our_ friend,” Fusco countered.

“What do you think it’s about?” Reese asked.

“I did a little digging,” Fusco said and by that he meant he paid a guy. “Seems Shaw’s ex-brother-in-law bit the dust.”

“From …injuries?” Reese asked.

“Not exactly,” Fusco whispered. “More like too much happy juice through his IV.”

Carter looked at John and he could see worry in her eyes. Not that she suspected anyone of doing this, but just the fact that they may have been on the scene.

“I guess they’ll want to search his house for clues,” Carter said as a way of warning John that there could be incriminating evidence.

Reese nodded his head and knew in an instant what needed to be done. He had to protect his friends and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to accomplish that.

“Probably soon, too,” Fusco said just as the door to the conference room opened up.

* * *

As if the two Manhattan detectives had rehearsed their dialogue on the way over, which they did, Joss stuck her hand out to Reese and announced, “Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get to see Mr. Finch, but please tell him we appreciate his support for the upcoming Guns and Hoses Charity baseball game.”

“Yeah,” Fusco said, unable to concentrate until he saw Shaw.

“Detectives Fusco, Carter,” the senior Brooklyn homicide detective said. “Funny running into you here.”

“I was about to say the same thing,” Fusco said, unable to control his protectiveness over Shaw.

“We’re here on _official_ business. Police business. Not softball business,” the woman quipped.

Only then did Fusco see his friend walk out of the room and immediately assessed that she was calm.

“Ha! Good one,” he said, not caring what the other cops said now. “You good?” he whispered to Shaw.

“Yes,” she said and he let out a breath.

“As soon as you can get us that tape,” Root said smiling.

“I’ll have it to you within the hour,” the woman replied and said goodbye. “Oh, Ms. Shaw?” she said, before getting on the elevator. “Tell your sister not to leave the City when you talk to her,” she warned. Ayala was also on the suspects list.  
Shaw took her two fingers and saluted the detective before the elevator door closed.

* * *

“It is never a dull day with all of you,” Carter said in a hushed, annoyed tone.

“I have to go,” Reese said and left.

“Anything we should know?” Fusco asked because there really was no other reason for them to be there.

“We’re good,” Shaw said, not wanting to implicate her friends any more than was necessary.

Fusco took a long minute to study his friend before saying okay and leaving. He assured his partner that whatever was going on, Shaw could handle herself. “Now, we just have to pray she can handle Captain Cocoa Puffs.”

* * *

Shaw may have known how to handle a police inquiry with calmness and grace, but it was Root’s deftness in reprogramming the video that had been tampered with that would really get them out of hot water.

“There we go,” Root said two hours later as they stared at her computer screen. The video clearly showed the restored image of a woman, dressed as a nurse, walk into Raphael’s room.

Root’s messaging dialogue box opened up. ‘ _I can help_ ,’ the message read.

“How?” Root asked and it took Shaw a minute to realize to whom she was speaking.

“Your all seeing overlord wants in?” she asked.

The next thing Root saw was a download. She clicked on it and it was the feed from a camera atop the roof across from the hospital. When she zoomed in, the image clearly showed the nurse putting something into the IV of Raphael and holding his wrist, until he had expired.

“Well, I think our new detective friends will want to see that,” Root said smiling.

“Did you …?” Root said out loud because she knew the images of the Trio of Trouble that would have easily been picked up on the traffic cams the day they visited Raphael had been erased.

'Yes,' came the answer. 'May I still talk to Azar?' the question appeared. Root had warned her that if she acted on her own, she would jeopardize that.

Root looked at Shaw for confirmation, but this was all Root’s department. Shaw threw her hands up at Root to decide.

“Yes,” she spoke back.

“Thank you,” they heard the machine reply verbally.

“You are _so_ not disciplining our kids,” Shaw said, shaking her head.


	66. Negotiations

“ _What_ … did you say?” Root asked, dreamy voiced.

“You suck at discipline,” Shaw explained. “You told _it_ ..,”

“Her…,” Root corrected and drew a dead stare.

“ _Her_ …,” Shaw corrected her pronoun, “…that if _she_ took things into _her_ own hands, you wouldn’t let _her_ talk to Azar. And one puppy eyed blink, and you give in. Hence, you’re going to suck at discipline.”

“With… _our_ … kids,” Root said, because that’s what really interested her.

As usual, the military marksman was slightly off the mark.

“Kids need discipline almost as much as they need love, Root,” Shaw started to preach. “Look at me,” she said and Root was looking and listening. “I had people who loved me, but they didn’t know how to handle me. I was wild, Root,” Shaw shared as if this would be a shocking revelation.

“How many kids do you want?” Root asked, staying on the topic that interested her most.

“What?” Shaw asked, it slowly dawning they might not be on the same page. “Are you listening? Kids need to know there are consequences to their actions. I had no consequences. Everyone felt so sorry for me that I did whatever the hell I wanted. I acted out my feelings. I had to go to the Marine Corp to learn discipline.”

“Six too many?” Root asked.

“Six… what?” Shaw asked, because she thought Root was talking about food or programs or something else.

“Six kids,” Root explained and she was already picturing them and what a half a dozen mini-Shaw’s would look like.

“Kids?” Shaw asked and she wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard a groan come out of the computer speaker where the machine had just been talking.

“You said you didn’t think I could be a good disciplinarian with … _our_ kids?” Root repeated and her ENTIRE face lit up. Her eyebrows were wiggling they were so happy.

“Oh, well … yeah, you would suck,” Shaw said slowly.

“You would be better?” Root asked, because she wanted this conversation to last right up to the delivery room.

“Yes, of course I would be better. Please!” Shaw said. “Look at your dog….,” and she stopped to look around because apologizing to Bear after he got his feelings hurt was way too much work. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Conference,” Root said as if that made perfect sense.

Shaw’s mouth shot open, but she tried to think if any possible question she had would get a normal answer. “Never mind. Anyway, that dog is proof of how poor your parenting skills in that area would be.”

“So, maybe you could teach me?” Root said, already thinking of what that could mean.

“Well, yeah, I could. I mean, I helped Fusco,” Sameen said and then noticed the faraway look in Root’s eyes. “You’re… not… thinking about child rearing, are you?”

“I was…but, now…,” Root confessed.

“I really need to limit how many fantasies a day you can get us into,” Shaw said bluntly and Root made a sad face.

“Speaking of which…,” Root said, getting into Shaw’s personal space and running her hand up her arm. “I think there’s the matter of your bill that’s still outstanding…,” she said looking coquettishly at her Doctor.

“Okay, but first; do you want to send that file to the new detectives in our lives or are you already planning my conjugal visits?” Shaw said and regretted it as soon as it was out of her mouth.

“Oh my, God, Sameen,” Root said and Shaw was even able to follow where she was going.

“Do not make that room into a cell; I’m warning you, Root,” Shaw said, but Root’s eyes were big round circles as she thought about it.

“We could get you an orange jumpsuit,” Root said, having seen all the episodes.

“Absolutely not! I am not wearing .... Hey! What makes you so sure I’m the one who would get arrested? Your fingerprints were all over that place,” Shaw pointed out because she was dealing in that little thing called reality.

It was a good question.

“Well, we can’t both go,” Root thought out, but for the wrong reason. “Okay, if I go, you’ll have to visit me.”

Shaw just stared at the insane love of her life. This switching back and forth between the two spheres was making her dizzy. “Okay, wait …,” Shaw tried to straighten out. “Neither of us can go in real life. In re-al life,” Shaw emphasized.

“Of course not, silly,” Root said, taking time out from her make-believe to address Shaw’s real concern. “John is seeing to that.”

“Wait, what?” Shaw said, not understanding that last sentence … at all.

“Didn’t you see him?” Root asked, surprised Shaw didn’t know.

“I… saw… him… leave,” Sameen confirmed.

“Exactly,” Root said and her girlfriend shook her head in annoyance.

“What does that mean, Root?” she said, holding onto the hands that were reaching out to play with her.

“Ohh,” Root said the way you do when you finally realized the clueless person is really clueless. Sameen hated being that person. “John … _knows_ people.”

In Root’s mind, that was the answer and now they could get back to playing.

In Shaw’s mind, John shared something with Root, but not with her.

“Who… does he know? What does that mean?” Shaw said, taking a step back.

This was usually the point where Bear would admire Root’s patience in dealing with Shaw, but he was at a conference.

“Didn’t you see when John was leaving?” Root asked and again, her question didn’t clear anything up.

“Root! No questions. Just tell me what he told you,” Shaw barked.

“He didn’t tell me anything. I just know John,” Root said confidently, but the exasperated look on her girlfriend’s face quickened her pace. “My fingerprints were all over that dresser I moved in front of the door. Who knows what other DNA is flying around there. Your hair, a boogie from John’s nose,” Root said thoughtfully. “Anyway, I figured from the way he left so quickly, that he was off to take care of things.”

Shaw just stared expressionless at Root. “I bet he has someone torch the place,” Sameen finally said, because that’s what she would do.

“He will do what he has to. He wouldn’t want us to go to jail,” Root added. “In real life.”

It sounded like Sameen should be grateful to the big lug for taking such good care of them. But in her mind, if he was taking care of them, she wasn’t. “I could have done that. Wait, what is he doing?”

Root shrugged her shoulders. Truthfully, she had no idea. “Besides, we had the most at stake here, Sameen. He knew that.”

“Fine,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes and giving in to John possibly being the hero.

“Now,” Root said, closing the distance, “Could we …get back to … our payment schedule?”

“Did you send that file?” Shaw asked, because she didn’t enjoy the visit from the two female detectives.

Root leaned over and clicked a few keys. “Done,” she said.

“Okay,” Shaw said and Root knew she was going to have to do something to get Sameen’s mind back on track.

So, she took Shaw by the shoulders and pushed her down _hard_ in the chair.

“What the hell, Root!” Shaw yelled, caught off guard.

“I’m going to show you just what kind of disciplinarian I can be,” Root smiled, but her eyes didn’t.

“Stop,” Shaw scoffed. “I can bench press more than your weight,” she said, but found herself elevated out of the chair when Root grabbed her by her jacket collar.

“No talking,” Root said, using her height to turn Sameen around before pushing her down on the desk.

Caught between finding this a little exciting, but never letting _anyone_ push her around, Sameen laughed and say, “Okay, Root, okay,” and tried to get up.

But, Root wouldn’t let her.

“I’m going to pay you back, like we agreed, and you’re going to let me,” Root said, sounding very stern.

Shaw stared up, too interested in seeing this side of Root to fight back. “O…kay,” she said as Root proceeded to pull the clothes off her.

Sameen both hated and loved what was happening to her.

The more Shaw pushed, the more Root pulled, matching her every move. Shaw put her hand out, but Root caught it swiftly. Nothing turned Sameen on like a formidable foe. Especially, if it was her lover.

The physicality of the foreplay set Sameen ablaze, and Root decided she was going to have to keep that in mind. Seemed her little Firecracker liked a bit of push and pull.

Root’s sent papers flying as she continued to keep Sameen on her back, getting up on the large desk to straddle her body. “You might lift weights, but I’ve got inches on you. And I’m going to make those inches count,” Root cooed in her ear. Her mouth traversed Sameen’s body, weakening her muscles with seductive touches until she moaned her surrender loudly.

“Seems Reese isn’t the only one who knows something about starting fires,” Root whispered in Shaw’s ear.

* * *

“John?” Carter said when she answered her phone. “Where are you?” she asked, her tone laced with some suspicion. Enough to catch Fusco’s attention as he sat at the desk across from her. “Lunch? Sure, I could do lunch. Yes, I can meet you in ten. I’ll see you there,” she said, but she kept looking at her phone when she hung up.

“Tall, dark, and handsome springing for lunch?” Fusco asked because he listened in on all her conversations.

“Yes, he’s a couple of blocks from here,” Carter said slowly.

“What’s up, partner?” Fusco asked because he could tell something was.

“This just came in,” she said, turning her screen to face him.

“Is that the house in Brooklyn? Where you know whose brother-in-law was?” Fusco asked in a soft voice.

“Yeah, just went up in flames,” Carter said, her instincts telling her it was suspicious.

“What do they say caused it?” Fusco asked.

“They had material in the basement for a meth lab. Firemen say something down there caused the fire,” Joss explained.

“Anyone hurt?” Fusco asked cautiously.

“Nope, no one. Fire was contained to the single property,” she said.

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Fusco said, sitting back to enjoy the rest of his tuna on rye. “Don’t be late for lunch.”

“Yeah,” Carter said, getting up and leaving to meet the man who would do anything to protect his friends.


	67. Orange is the New Black*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Oh, you had to see that coming. lol

Joss met Reese for lunch that day and as usual, there wasn’t one single hair out of place. She considered mentioning the fire, but decided she may not want to hear his answer. John was a man of great integrity and he would never outright lie to her. Even if she was tempted for him to do that.

The woman who felt she had to mention it was Shaw. When he returned to work that afternoon, she felt compelled to broach the subject.

“Hey, Reese,” Shaw said in an unusually friendly manner. The man turned slowly to look at his coworker who looked well, in a word, disheveled. Apparently, making love on a large desk had its drawbacks. Mostly in the way of wrinkles and tussled hair.

“Shaw,” he said and then looked her up and down. “You look…,” and he hesitated to pick the correct adjective.

“What? I don’t look good? Because I think I look good,” Shaw said and true, her face was glowing, but it was the rest of her outfit that caught his attention.

“You look…,” he said and then decided on, “…like you were rolling around on a hard surface.” He meant it metaphorically, of course.

“What?” Sameen barked and looked down at her clothes that had been scattered and stepped on. One touch of her own hair made her realized she had not straightened up before she left. “It’s …windy out,” she coughed and ran her hands through her hair.

“Wind causes wrinkles?” Reese asked, not wanting to let her off too easily.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you,” Shaw said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to her cubicle where she could brush her hair and get to the point.

“What about, Shaw?” Reese asked in a tone that told her he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“Look, Reese, you might be my boss, and most days that’s a stretch because I’m better at a lot of things than you are, but that aside,” Shaw began her speech and shoved her hands in her back pockets, “…I appreciate you looking out for us.”

“ _Better_ qualified?” Reese said back in response. “I don’t think so, Shaw.”

“Look, that’s not the point,” said the impatient woman, “…the point is I’m thanking you here.”

“I can’t think of three things you’re better at that have nothing to do with ingesting terrible foods,” Reese said, knowing exactly how to sidetrack the woman. As much as he appreciated her gratitude, it was for something he would neither deny nor confirm.

“Three?” Shaw barked, completely diverted. “ _Three_? You want three? I could give you _ten_ , but I’ll give you three, Reese. I’m a better shot, I’m a better fighter and God knows, I’m a much better driver! Should I continue?” She stood there, arms crossed; her head all the way back as she attempted to look the tall man in the eye.

He stood there expressionless, which annoyed her. He finally shook his head. “I’m not seeing any of that, Shaw.” If Shaw were a peacock, her tail feather wouldn’t just be ruffled; they’d be in knots.

“You know I’m a better shot!” she protested, calling attention to their area. “I can shoot through the dark, through concrete and hit someone. I can take you down any day,” she continued her diatribe and finished with, “…and I can drive any machine better than you!”

Janine’s head was up over the side of the cubicle and now, Martine was even standing up.

Of all the things that John could have said to push Sameen over the tiny little edge her huge ego sat on most days, it came in one word. “Okay,” he said and tried to exit her office.

“Okay?” she yelled. “You mean, _okay if that’s what you think, Shaw_ ,” she interpreted.

He would neither confirm nor deny it.

“That’s…okay, fine. I challenge you, Reese. I will prove …I don’t have to prove, but I will prove that I can outshoot you, outfight you, and I will drive anything faster than you!”

“Okay, Shaw,” John said, finally getting her off the topic she began with and not feeling threatened in any way. Truth be told, Reese did think Shaw was the best shot he had ever seen. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Oh, my God! What an ego!” Shaw yelled and then noticed Martine in the doorway. “Do you believe that?” she asked and flopped in her chair. Seeing Martine reminded Sameen about her sister.

“Oh, hey, do you know where my sister is?”

“At the hotel with your mom,” Martine said, never giving the titles a second thought. Everyone seemed to be getting comfortable with acknowledging their connection to Shaw.

“I have to go see her,” Shaw said, deciding the news about her ex-husband was better in person. “You want to come?”

Martine welcomed the opportunity to visit Ayala again that day. Since she told Martine that they were talking about taking an extended vacation, the two tried to spend as much time as they could.

* * *

Shaw and Martine arrived at the hotel and went upstairs to see Azar and Ayala. The younger woman was pleasantly surprised to see them both.

“How’s the arm?” Sameen asked and Ayala lied and said she was fine.

“I saw the news,” Ayala said, after the four women sat down in the living room area. “They haven’t been up to see me yet.”

“Yeah, they will, I bet,” Shaw said of the two detectives. “They’re not as friendly as Fusco, but they’re just doing their job.”

“Do they have any leads?” Azar asked, sipping her tea, giving Sameen a look that meant something. She knew her mother was asking her if Root was working with the machine.

“I think I heard that they got some new information just before,” Shaw replied, and her mother just smiled.

“He was…,” Ayala started to say of her ex-husband, but Shaw gave her an opened mouth look of ‘ _really_?’ “He didn’t deserve to be murdered.”

Now Sameen just looked at her aibling. “No, he deserved to carry out his sentence for attempted murder on you, but sometimes things don’t work out the way you’d want them to,” Shaw scoffed.

“The whole house went up in flames,” Azar noted right before taking another sip as she sat calmly in the chair. Shaw was beginning to notice how polished her mother always was. She didn’t get that gene, for sure.

“It was a drug den, right?” Martine chimed in. “Probably chemicals and explosives,” she guessed correctly. “Still, too bad,” she offered her condolences.

“Yeah, he was a real ace,” Shaw spat of her former brother-in-law. She took a minute out to notice the looks her sister and Martine were exchanging. She could see the concern in her coworker’s eyes as she looked at the younger woman whose personal judgment needed tweaking. “Well, anyway, the detectives don’t want you leaving in case they need to talk to you, so I would put those island plans on hold,” she delivered the good news.

“Really?” Ayala and Martine asked at the same time. They both reached out and put a hand on Sameen’s knees. Her mother sat there watching what was going on. What a long way her elder daughter had come in dealing with them. How grateful she was in her heart that Sameen remained opened enough to slowly come back to her.

Shaw looked down at the hand on each knee, pulled each up by the wrist and returned it to the rightful owner. “Let’s get out before the love fest gets out of hand,” Sameen said, but her mother asked if she wanted to have something to eat and caught her interest.

Large, overstuffed sandwiches were ordered, plus salads for those who didn’t know what good was. “I don’t get what you did to her,” Shaw said, chopping on the tenderest corned beef she ever had.

“What does that mean?” Ayala asked, a forkful of salad waiting to enter her mouth.

“I believe Sameen is noticing your difference in food choices,” Azar said the way a mother does when she’s trying to prevent siblings from fighting.

“No,” Shaw said, pushing her hand up to her mouth to keep the food from falling out, “I mean she’s eating the same thing as rabbits. If God wanted us to eat like rabbits, “ Shaw theorized to the women of different faiths, “…He would have given us great hopping skills.”

It was weak at best, but it made Martine laugh until she saw the look on Ayala’s face. “Oh,” she said, getting serious.

“You’re eating artery-clogging red meat,” Ayala pointed out. “It will kill you.”

“But I’m going to die happy,” Shaw said unperturbed, because her sister wasn’t the first person who tried to point out her poor diet.

Martine had to break this up, not because it was so unpleasant, but because sooner or later she would be called on to choose sides. She didn’t know Ayala long enough to break it to her that she would always have Shaw’s back. “Hey, so it sounds like you two are grounded. Did I get that right?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

It worked.

“Yeah, those two detectives from Brooklyn are probably the kind who want to close this case fast, so they don’t want anyone leaving,” Shaw said, and her sister just stared at how much of the sandwich each bite consisted of for her sister.

“Aren’t you afraid of choking?” she asked and she really meant it.

“Other people?” Shaw laughed because no one upset her eating habits.

“Anyway,” Martine said, trying to turn the Titanic siblings back to another topic, “… I guess you have to stay put.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to be a fugitive because I am not posting _bail_ ,” Sameen jokingly threatened. It took a second, but her own words made her stop and think.

And then she looked at her watch in horror.

“Oh, crap!” Shaw said, wiping her mouth and getting up quickly from her seat.

“What’s up, Shaw?” Martine asked.

“I gave her too much time. What time is it? How long have we been here?” Shaw asked because she had lost track of time.

“We left the office about three hours ago,” Martine said.

“THREE HOURS?” Shaw shouted and the three women stared at her.

“I’m sorry, dear; did we keep you from something?” Azar apologized.

“Yes, yes you did,” Shaw said, stumbling over Martine’s feet that didn’t get out of the way fast enough. “Three hours?” she asked again. “Do you have any idea what that woman’s imagination can do in three hours?” Shaw asked as she went to the door.

Azar walked behind her to see her out. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” her mother said because she had no idea what Sameen was talking about.

“Well, if you don’t hear from me in six to ten, you’ll know what she can do in three hours,” Sameen said, rushing to the elevator to get home.

Of course, Azar had no idea what Sameen was talking about, but had deduced she was talking about Root. She turned to see Martine sitting closer to Ayala as they talked now. Finally, she thought, things are getting better.

* * *

Shaw rushed to the Penthouse to see if she could persuade Root that there were limits in life, especially when it came to acting out fantasies in your adult years. But this was a woman with a wild imagination and a great deal of money that could make anything happen. Twenty minutes later and almost out of breath, Sameen walked into the lobby with a suspicious eye. Nothing seemed out of place. The doorman wasn’t dressed in anything other than his usual uniform. He smiled and greeted Sameen and asked if she were okay.

“So far,” she said as she entered the elevator. “God knows what I’m going to find when I walk in, though,” she said to herself.

The elevator door opened into the Penthouse entryway. Shaw wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but was surprised to see the two Brooklyn Detectives waiting for her there.

“Oh, thank God,” she laughed and the two women stared at her. “I’m glad to see you. Well, not glad because no one wants to see the cops when they come home, but happy that it’s you and not …,” and she almost blurted out what she thought Root’s fantasy might be. “Strangers,” she coughed and the two women looked at each other.

“Oh, hi, Sweetie,” Root said, coming out of the kitchen and kissing Sameen on the cheek.

“Hi,” Shaw said and waited for someone to say something.

The more senior detective was busy observing Sameen’s odd body language, while the less experienced detective was explaining why they were there.

“We went back to your job, Ms. Shaw, but they said you left for the day,” she explained.

“Yeah, I have been gone over three hours now,” Sameen said and strained her neck to see past them to see if her living room was different.

“Well, your assistant said she didn’t know where you were and refused to give us your cell,” she said.

“I had left for a meeting or I would have been more than happy to give them your cell,” Root smiled.

“Well, we wanted to thank Ms. Groves for sending us that video, so we stopped in. We’re running through the system to see if we can identify the woman,” the cop continued.

“Okay, good,” Shaw said, looking at Root from head to toe to see if she could see anything.

“They asked for Ayala’s address, so I gave it to them,” Root explained and Sameen nodded.

“Something distracting you, Ms. Shaw?” the woman who had been staring at her the whole time asked.

“What? No, no, I’m just glad to be home,” Sameen said, trying to cover up her obvious distraction.

There was nothing about her that the more senior detective found believable.

“Well, the house burned down where Mr. Dubois lived; did you hear that?” the older woman asked.

“We did!” Root said and explained they heard it on the news. “Terrible.”

“Yeah, well that means we don’t have much evidence to connect anyone to the deceased. So, until we can identify this woman, we thought we’d give you a heads up, Ms. Shaw, that we’re going to speak to you sister. You know, as a curtesy,” the cop explained.

“Oh, sure, thanks. I went over there today to explain that she shouldn’t leave,” Shaw said, finally getting her focus back.

“I’m sure she’ll cooperate,” Root said, endorsing her future sister-in-law.

“I’m sure,” the more senior detective smiled, but didn’t mean it. “Well, we won’t take up any more of your time,” she said as they entered the elevator.

Root stood there and waved goodbye. Sameen let out a deep sigh as they left. “That woman is studying me,” she assessed correctly.

“She’ll have to get in line,” Root said, turning Sameen to face her so she could give her a kiss.

Root walked into the living room, holding Shaw’s hand as they sat on the couch. “Drink?” she asked as she pulled out a cold beer from an ice bucket on the table.

“God, yes!” Sameen said and practically drained the bottle of its contents. She told Root how she and Martine went to see her sister and mother and how she lost track of time. She didn’t want to admit what she thought Root might have been up to because it might only encourage her for another time.

But, Sameen was already too late.

* * *

“I have to go take care of something,” Root said, as she played with a strand of Sameen’s hair.

“Okay, sure,” the unsuspecting girlfriend said.

Root kissed her cool lips and went upstairs. Shaw shook her head at how her own imagination had gotten the better of her.

Someday, she would tell Root what she thought was really going to happen.

“SAMEEN!” came her name being called in a loud voice from upstairs. Shaw choked on her sip, put the bottle down and took the steps, two at a time.

Root was in their bedroom with Bear.

“You okay? Hey, Bear, how was your conference?” Sameen asked and went to pet him.

That’s when she noticed he was wearing a tag around his neck that said … _Warden_.

“What the hell kind of conference did you go to?” Shaw asked and only then did she notice Root was wearing a long sleeved blue shirt and blue pants.

“Want me to process the new prisoner?” Root asked in a deep voice to the dog. Bear whined that she should.

“I knew it!” Shaw yelled. “I knew if I gave you too much time…,” but Root didn’t respond.

“Miss Shaw, please follow me,” Root said, taking Sameen by the arm.

“Okay, okay, obviously my speech about limiting our play time did not actually get through,” Sameen said, but Root was really pulling her.

“If you’ll just come with me, we’ll get you a uniform,” Root said, very much in character.

“Wait, don’t I get one phone call? Can’t I call my lawyer?” Shaw laughed.

Root looked down at Bear who was exhausted from his long day away from the office and seriously did not want to partake in this game. He sneezed and shook his head.

“Warden says he’ll contact your lawyer,” Root said and pulled Sameen to go with her.

“I think you just violated my constitutional rights, right there,” Shaw said, but went with Root anyway. Root pulled her into the large walk-in closet, where to on one’s surprise, orange pants and an orange top were laid out on the bench.

“Aren’t we taking this just a little ….,” Shaw asked, but Root gave her a gentle nudge to get changed.

Shaw let out a deep sigh, having never been involved with anything remotely similar to Root’s imagination. “Your creativity is on steroids, you know that, right?” she asked as she slipped off her clothes and donned her new outfit. “I really don’t look good in orange,” she said, even though Root thought she looked good in every color. “How long will I be here?” Sameen asked, trying to play her part.

“Until you serve your sentence,” Root said in a tone that cracked Sameen up.

“Any chance I can get off early for _good_ behavior?” Sameen asked, batting her eyelashes, and trying her new role on for size. She turned and tried to play with a strand of Root’s hair.

“It’s not _good_ behavior that will get you off,” Root cooed close to her ear.

“Oh, I can be bad, Officer,” Shaw retorted. “What do you think got me in here?”

“Better,” Root said of Shaw’s portrayal.

With that, Root took Shaw by the wrist and walked her out of their bedroom and down the hallway. “Okay,” Shaw said, until something dawned on her. She stopped in her tracks and pulled Root back. “You’re not …there won’t be like real prison food, right? You didn’t con Isabelle into your charade, did you?” she asked in horror at the thought.

“We try to make your experience as authentic as possible,” the mastermind behind the fantasy assured her.

“No, Root, that’s not funny. No, I’m not playing if there’s going to be prison food,” Shaw balked as Root continued to pull her into the former exam room.

* * *

“Holy shit!” Sameen said, upon entering the transformed room. The examination table and cabinets were gone and it their place was a desk and a small cell with a cot. “I knew three hours was too long,” Shaw said and Root gently pushed her into the makeshift cell. Sameen put her hands on the bars. “These are steel?” she asked amazed.

“Well,” Root smiled as she turned the lock, “…we can’t have you breaking out.”

Shaw had to hand it to her girlfriend; everything she did was big and over the top. Still, she was never leaving her alone for that long a period of time.

“Okay, so how long do I have to stay in here, because I don’t see the fun in that,” Shaw complained of her solitary confinement.

“Well, at least until your high-end, very qualified lawyer comes, who you _really_ can’t afford by the way,” Root explained as she started to leave.

“What am I going to do if I can’t afford her?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something, Prisoner Shaw,” Root smiled from the doorway and left.

“I want to see the Warden,” Sameen yelled and laughed to herself. Then, she tried to lock and was surprised that it really was …real. “I have to get her to dial it down,” she murmured.

A couple of minutes later, the door opened and Root stepped back in, dressed in a very expensive black suit and heels.

“Miss Shaw?” Root smiled as she walked in. She opened the cell and swung it opened and stepped inside.

“And you are?” Shaw asked, because no one gave her the list of characters.

“Veronica Sinclair, Special Counsel,” Root gleamed as she shook Shaw’s hand.

“You know I can’t afford you, right? I mean, I don’t have my Visa or American Express cards on me,” Sameen said, rolling her eyes.

Root was ready for any response Shaw had. She sat down and patted the cot in the cell. “I take other forms of payment, Ms. Shaw.”

“I bet you do,” Shaw said, knowing exactly how her sentence was going to be reduced.

Instead of sitting on the cot, she straddled Root’s lap and pushed her back to kiss her. “I’m …very expensive,” Root tried to get out between gasps.

“Don’t worry,” Shaw said, close to her ear. “I intend to pay in full.”


	68. Prison Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure anyone has the energy to read after this weekend of panels, updates and videos.

Root was so thrilled that Sameen seemed to be getting into this role playing more easily. There was intensity about her lovemaking that Root had not experienced before. Their physicality was often push-and-pull because Sameen had a hard time separating from any power struggle. Now, Root had to thrust with all her might if she wanted Sameen to be underneath her. But Prisoner Shaw wasn’t having any of that. She was _really_ determined to dominate her very expensive _fake_ lawyer in the _fake_ jail cell. Lost in the freedom of acting out, Sameen actually bit Root on the shoulder in an over the top excited moment.

“Miss Shaw, did you just …bite* me?” Root tried to stay in character, but her tone was one of utter excitement.

“Didn’t you see the warning sign on the cell? I bite,” Sameen said, removing the rest of Root’s clothes hastily. “I may be bad at being good, but I excel at being bad,” Shaw whispered in Root’s ear and her knees would have given out had she been standing.

By the time the two were done tussling on the small bed, all legal fees had been paid in full.

Out of breath, and laughing now, the couple lay next to each other. “You make an excellent prisoner,” Root gasped.

“Well, you _suck_ as a lawyer,” Shaw said, turning to face her.

“Yeah, I suck, but that’s the part you liked best,” Root laughed.

* * *

Across town, the two Brooklyn detectives had few leads to go on and the senior one couldn’t shake the feeling that Sameen Shaw was acting very strangely when she visited her. The video that Root had provided them with was shadowy and they were working with hospital personnel to determine who could have gotten in to Raphael and administered the lethal dosage.

“So we got a short, dark haired woman in a nurse’s uniform go into his room right past the cops,” the younger detective said. “Cops on duty said she had hospital ID and was on the list.”

“Did we get any updates about that arson?” the senior one asked.

“Just that they thought it started in the basement where there were some chemicals for the meth lab,” the other one reported. “An opened window was suspected where a stray cat could have gotten in and knocked over some vials.”

“Right,” the senior one said. “Let’s visit the ex-wife.”

Their visit to Ayala was not a surprise, but their curt manner did put her on edge. They questioned why an ex-husband would attempt to kill his ex-wife after not seeing her for so many years?”

Azar Morin was calm and gracious as she sat with her daughter. “Sadly, he was never stable,” she said of her son-in-law.

Martine insisted on staying because she was Ayala’s alibi. “And you work for BEAR, in security?” the detective asked her. “With Sameen Shaw?” and there was no mistaking she was trying to connect the dots.

Now, had they been questioning Azar, there would have been polite responses to their pointed questions; there would have been carefully placed doubt with their weak theories. But this was Ayala and she was more like her sister in tense situations than her mother. In other words, she was a bull in a china shop.

“Why would I know why he came into a club and shot me!” Ayala said and Azar tried to put her hand on her daughter’s knee. But Ayala went off about how he slipped through the NYPD’s hands because his own people picked him up in an ambulance and how it took a rival gang to find his hideout, right in the middle of Brooklyn.

The senior detective was quietly taking in the suspect’s anger and combined it with her sibling’s very odd behavior and thought there had to be something there. And based on that, she made a decision.

“I think we’d like to talk to you at the station,” the senior officer said.

Azar tried to reason with them that Ayala was injured and it would have been impossible for her to do anything, but they saw it as a mother protecting her daughter. “If you have nothing to hide, then you’ll be back before you know it,’ the detective said, poking at the younger woman.

Ayala’s only training was in how to handle intense situations. Her protesting did nothing to help her.

Azar was truly worried that her daughter would get herself in trouble, so she reached out to the only person who could possibly prevent her from doing that. She called Sameen.

* * *

“Ms. Shaw, did you smuggle a phone into your cell?” Root asked, still in her role as Veronica Sinclair. “That could get you put in solitary,” she whispered in Shaw’s ear. They laughed and ignored the beeping as Sameen shoved the phone under the mattress.

Azar was desperate. So she contacted the only other person who could help.

Within seconds, the fire alarms in the Penthouse went off, causing a deafening ring to shatter the couple’s moments of tender cuddling. “Don’t you think a raid was a little over the top?” Shaw shouted as they both jumped up and exited the play room. Root ran to the keypad and entered the code to determine what was going on.

‘ _HELP_ ’ … came up on the LED screen as the alarms quieted.

“What? What do you need?” Root asked, but Sameen thought she was talking to her.

“I need food and not simulated prison food, Root, or I swear to God…,” Shaw balked.

‘ _PHONE_ ’ appeared on the keypad and Root told Sameen to get her phone.

“ _Don’t look at your phone so much, Sameen. Get your phone, Sameen_ ,” Shaw said under her breath. “These games have very confusing rules,” she shouted out to Root as she retrieved her device.

‘ _VOICEMAIL_ ’ the machine instructed.

“Listen to you voicemail,” Root relayed as Sameen approached. She did and she heard Azar explain that she and Ayala were at the Brooklyn police station where they were questioning her sister. She would call her lawyer, if necessary, but needed their help.

“She’s very stubborn, your sister,” Azar said in the message.

“Oh, no kidding! I knew that detective was looking around too much,” Shaw said, and grabbed Root’s hand to go downstairs. Root was busy buttoning up her blouse that she had thrown back on. Shaw was back in the orange costume and was busy calling Fusco. There was no time to notice or care that they were still in their getups. Throwing a jacket on, Shaw was busy talking to her friend as they entered the elevator and went outside.

* * *

“You know she’s going to screw this up, right?” Shaw said to Root as they hailed a cab. Root’s driver would not make it there in time. It took a couple of tries, but finally a driver pulled over to the oddly dressed pair. They told him what precinct to go to in Brooklyn. He listened carefully as the shorter woman carried on about the detectives. He was going to signal that he might be having passenger trouble, when he realized he was taking them to the police. But his attention made him miss a couple of lights; something Shaw could not tolerate.

“That’s it!” she yelled and got out of the back of the cab and slammed the door when he slowed down for the fifth red light. He thought his passengers were trying to skip out on the fare when the woman pulled open the driver’s door and she told him in no uncertain terms that he was to move over and let her drive. And she told him this in Farsi. Scared for his life, he did just that, noticing now that the woman was dressed in prison clothes. He turned to look at the more reasonable of the two women. Root smiled amicably and shrugged her shoulders.

Pulling up near the precinct, Sameen could not have announced their arrival any louder, if she had used a bullhorn. Screeching tires broadcast their approach as they pulled into a spot … sort of … and she called for Root to get out. “We’ll be back,” Root said because neither of them had thought to bring money. The man started yelling, but only after the two women went inside.

* * *

“I’m here to see Detectives Cagney and Lacey,” Shaw barked and Root pulled on her jacket arm to play nice. “Jackson and Phillips,” Shaw said.

“And you are?” the desk sergeant ask.

“Normally, I’d be the girl kicking …,” Shaw said, and just then her good friend Fusco pushed his thick arm in front of her mouth and turned her around.

“She’s a consultant with the Manhattan precinct,” Fusco smiled to the desk cop. “Her sister is here with two nice detectives. Could you see if we could see them?”

Shaw pushed against his arm, but Fusco wasn’t about to let her friend shoot herself in the foot before she even got to where she was going.

“Thanks for coming, Lionel,” Root said as Shaw fought to get his arm away from her.

“You’re welcome,” he said to Root, but was looking right at his friend. “What the hell are you….,” he was about to inquire when the senior Detective Jackson emerged from the back of the station.

“Well, this is nice,” she said and no one believed her.

“She’s doing her job,” he whispered through gritted teeth to his friend.

“Usually people bring their own lawyers, not their own detectives,” she noted and Root was the only one who tried to remain friendly.

“Well, there’s no reason for Ms. Shaw to have a lawyer,” Root said.

“I’d like to know what the hell you’re doing with my sister,” Shaw barked and the detective asked Fusco, as a courtesy, if he had a tight grip on that leash.

“Talk to her,” Fusco said and pulled Shaw back to face Root, the only person who could get through to her. Lionel went to talk to Jackson and remind her what a help Shaw had been to the police on several cases. “She’s one of us,” he said, hoping to convince the woman.

“Then why is she dressed … like one of them?” she asked when Shaw tore off her jacket; overheated by her own temper.

“Oh, that?” Lionel asked and scrambled to think of why his friend was dressed like a criminal. “She was supposed to go undercover for us, but ...ah… yeah, that didn’t work out.” Lionel was never known for his creativity. Especially under pressure.

“The other prisoners threaten to kill her?” Detective Jackson asked, not believing a word of it. “Come on, Shaw, I’ll take you back.”

The senior detective was beginning to see a pattern with the two women who were related; they both had bad tempers and odd body language. Neither impressed her.

“We wouldn’t have insisted that she come down here, but she was yelling and carrying on at her apartment. I thought a trip here would get through to her, but she’s still yelling back there,” Jackson shared with Fusco.

“What do you have so far?” Fusco asked as she told a cop to have the three women join them.

“Sister has strong alibi. She was in the hospital, then released to the hotel where hotel staff can account for her. Her friend is here backing up her story. But, your friend, Fusco, is reeking of something,” she turned and said only to him. “We stopped by her apartment this afternoon and she was acting very weird. Like she was looking for something,” the detective shared. “And she’s dressed in a prison uniform, so there’s that, too.”

He was hoping they’d overlook the peculiar dress. “Let me talk to them,” Fusco asked and the detective told him he had five minutes.

* * *

While Fusco went back to try to get Shaw out of the hot water she insisted on walking into, she was trying to talk her sister into calming down. Azar watched as Sameen did her best to talk sense into her sister, but suddenly, it was Root who caught her attention. The older woman sat there as Root took out her phone and talked into it. She could tell by the questions that Root was asking someone to provide rock solid evidence.

Azar knew… Root was in contact with the machine. She took a deep breath, sat back and waited.

“If you could just do what I do and shut your mouth,” Shaw said to her sister who stared at her clothing.

"Shaw, what's with the ...?" Martine was going to ask, but Ayala beat her to it. 

“Why are you dressed up as a member of Orange is the New Black cast?” Ayala asked, staring at her sister.

“What?” Shaw asked, only now getting that it was obvious to everyone that she looked like an escapee. She looked down at her outfit and then looked up at Root. If there was one person who could get her out of this, it was Root. But even Root had a little trouble with this.

“Sameen…,” she began and halted, while everyone hung on her words. “Is taking…,” Root said, her genius IQ scrambling for an explanation that might make sense, “…a course,” she said and now, they leaned forward, even Sameen, to hear what was next. “In empathy. You know, when you try to be in the other person’s shoes.”

“Shoes weren’t enough, Shaw. You had to do the whole outfit?” Fusco quipped.

“I’m shooting you if you tell anyone about this,” Shaw threatened.

Fusco turned right to Root. “She’s threatening a police officer _IN_ a police station. Please promise me you’ll review this later with her. Use flash cards or something, but make her understand,” he pleaded.

Fusco had what he needed though. He pointed out to his fellow detective that she had to assess Sameen’s behavior as part of the big picture. “No matter what channel of Sameen Shaw you pick,” he said, “….it’s always a little crazy. It’s just who she is.”

“Detective?” the younger cop called to her partner. “You might want to see this.”

“Could you watch this circus for me,” she asked Fusco while she went to view the file that was just sent to them from an anonymous source.

* * *

Azar watched as Root sat next to her. Shaw was busy arguing with Fusco and Ayala.

“Do we know who that is?” Detective Jackson asked of the video that had been sharpened. The second detective clicked on the second file from the national database of fingerprints.

“Yes, we do now,” the junior detective said.

“Move on this,” Detective Jackson said and her orders were followed. She walked back over to where everyone was sitting.

“You’re free to go,” she said directly to Ayala who was about to protest that of course she was, but her mother put a firm hand on her good wrist and kept her seated.

“She’s unbelievable,” Shaw said and she might as well have doused gasoline on the younger sister’s temper, but Jackson raised her voice over all of them.

“I’ve got a lot of years on the force, Shaw, and I respect that you have done a good job consulting with the NYPD,” she began. “But I’ve got an excellent gut instinct and something tells me you know more than you’re saying,” she said and Shaw was about to prove her point for her, but Fusco saved her again.

“Do you have any of that duct tape lying around?” he asked Jackson who almost, barely smiled.

“So, we’re all good here?” Root asked in a pleasant tone.

“Yes, but I bet you already knew that,” the older woman said, looking directly at Root. Root had sent her the first video from the camera across the street from the hospital. She had every reason to suspect that Root had a hand in the two files she had just received that named their lead suspect.

Fusco let out a deep breath, happy that this impromptu meeting was coming to an end.

* * *

Just then, the cab driver who had been bodily threatened and done out of his fare came yelling into the police station. “There she is! The escaped crazy prisoner. She threatened me and didn’t pay me,” he yelled.

If anyone had missed Shaw’s outfit, they certainly noticed it now. All heads turned and stared.

“Arrest that woman,” the cabbie demanded.

Detective Jackson looked at Shaw. “Did you skip out on this man’s fare?”

“Ah,” Shaw hesitated, “We…may have rushed in here. But we told him to wait. I told you to wait,” she yelled and the man carried on that he had been threatened.

“Did you throw the man out of his own cab?” Jackson asked and Fusco put his head in his hands.

“She’s got this,” Root smiled to Sameen's mother who was getting worried.

“I…embraced his diversity … and spoke to him in his native tongue,” Shaw pointed out because no one could quote her then, “…and politely asked him if I couldn’t drive because he was slowing down for the red lights!”

“You mean, instead of going _through_ them?” Jackson asked and Sameen yelled, “YES!” as in…” _Finally, you understand_ ’.

Oh, she understood plenty.

“We’re ready to go,” an officer said to the woman who would lead the charge to get their suspect.

The detective told a rookie to make sure the man was paid and escorted outside.

“That’s very nice, Detective,” Root said.

“It comes with a price,” the cop assured her. “Fusco, keep your consultant in Manhattan. I don’t ever want to see her in my precinct again.”

“Got it,” Fusco said, shaking her hand.

“Ms. Groves, thank you for your help,” the detective said and gave Root a long, knowing look.

Then, she turned to Shaw. “I bet you’re very good at what you do, Ms. Shaw,” she said and she meant whatever Sameen put her mind to. “Very good indeed.” She eyed Sameen closely as Fusco prayed to every saint he could think of to mute his friend.

With that, the detective said she would be in touch if she needed anything further, but that she personally would pray to God that she didn’t.

* * *

Azar placed her hand on Root’s and thanked her for helping them. “We are all in very good hands,” she said to Root. “It’s your call for how long.”

She knew the machine’s signature when she saw it. It followed Root’s instructions and produced information that it was going to take the cops a few days to uncover, if they could. With thousands of databases at her disposal, the machine could name their killer in minutes. Root would have let the police do the work, until her girlfriend was involved. Then, Root would use whatever resource she needed.

Root smiled at Shaw and then turned her eyes to look at Fusco. Sameen knew immediately that she was calling her attention to the fact that he ran to help her, yet again. Letting out a sigh and turning to him, Sameen thanked him.

“Let’s all get a beer,” he suggested and asked Ayala and Azar to join them and promised he would pick a _classy_ place if they joined.

“What the hell does that mean? If they don’t, you take us to a dive?” Sameen demanded.

“No, it’s just your mother is classy,” he tried and annoyed his friend even more.

“Do you believe him? And you want me to be nice to him?” Shaw asked Root as they walked out of the station. “Un-freaking-believable, Fusco.”

* * *

Root suspected that Fusco was going to tease Sameen about her outfit, so she texted a local store and asked to have a more appropriate outfit sent to them … at the bar.

“Could you excuse us?” Root said and took Sameen to the ladies room, shortly after they all sat down.

“You know he’s calling Reese and Carter to join us, right?” Shaw bellowed as Root locked the bathroom door. “He just wants them to see me in this outfit,” she concluded because ….again …it’s what she would have done.

“Well, we’ll just see about that,” Root said, and began to pull the orange shirt over her head.

“Root!” Shaw said, thinking someone could walk in on them. “I’m not playing escaped prisoner,” she said.

“This isn’t my fantasy,” Root said, confusing Sameen.

“Oh, so that outfit is so embarrassing that you think it would be better for me to walk out there in my underwear?” Shaw asked.

“No, silly,” Root said, and she pulled at Shaw’s pants until she stepped out of them. “Here,” she said, taking the black garment bag that was delivered to the exact place Root instructed them to. She opened the bag and took out a beautiful black, low-cut dress and heels. “You got off for good behavior,” Root teased as she rolled up the orange outfit and put it in the garment bag.

Shaw put the dress on immediately. “I look good,” Shaw decided because of course she did.

“Oh, yes,” Root said, putting her hands on Sameen’s waist to turn and walk back to their friends.

* * *

“Wait!” Fusco said to Reese and Carter who had joined them. “Wait until you see her outfit. It’s unbelievable.”

The couple looked in Shaw’s direction as she sashayed through the crowd.

“You better watch it, Fusco,” Carter teased him. “You don’t want to make her girlfriend jealous.”

“What?” Fusco yelled. How could they possibly think he was praising Shaw when it was obvious he was setting her up to be teased.

“Hi,” Shaw said and sat down.

“What? Where is the? I swear,” Fusco stammered. “She was just in a prisoner outfit. You saw it, right Mrs. Morin? Ayala? Martine? Help me out here,” Fusco begged, but the other women looked at Fusco quizzically.

“Okay, I see how it is,” Fusco whined.

“You’re going to have to get up very early, Fusco, to catch me,” Shaw whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, I saw how that worked out,” Fusco said and ordered another club soda.

It was going to be a long night for him.

* * *

Carter laughed at her friends’ teasing. Somewhere in the middle of dinner, the woman excused herself and went to the ladies room. There, in the stall where she entered, was a black garment bag that was supposed to have been picked up by staff member.

“No,” Carter said, and reached up to lower the zipper. Sure enough, there was the orange outfit rolled up in the bottom.

“Oh, there is never a dull moment with those two,” Carter said to herself. A fleeting thought crossed her mind and she held up the pants next to her waist.

Too small.

She put the outfit back in, rolled up the garment bag, and nonchalantly shoved it into Root’s oversized bag on the back of her chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Sarah shared she thought Shaw would be a biter.


	69. Quality Time

Close to when everyone was leaving, Ayala approached her older sister. “Listen, I don’t always thank you, but I do appreciate you… uhm… coming today and… helping out.”

Azar watched the interaction of the girls because she still held onto the hope they would continue to get closer.

“You mean, saved your ass,” Shaw corrected her in a teasing-sibling kind of way.

“Yeah,” Ayala said and their mother smiled to think they were at least beginning to understand each other’s language.

* * *

“Nice switch, Shaw,” Fusco said, knowing he had missed out on a great opportunity to tease his friend. And then Fusco added something that Shaw didn’t want to hear. “You know, it’s nice, you not worried and all about your sister and Martine.”

As usual, Sameen had not really given that any thought.

“What?” she asked, trying to figure out what Fusco’s point was.

“You know; your sister and Martine?” he repeated.

“Why do people repeat what you don’t understand? I _heard_ you, Fusco; I didn’t _understand_ you. Why do people think repeating the same words will help?” she turned and complained to Root.

“I don’t know, Sweetie,” Root said, guilty of the very thing Shaw complained about.

She had made her point. “What I mean,” Fusco explained, “…was if it doesn’t work out; you’re working with the ex-girlfriend. It’s nice you don’t care.”

The very fact that he was saying Shaw didn’t care, made Shaw care. As always, she turned to Root for the answer. “Am I? Am I going to have to deal with that?”

Root shook her head. “It’s their issue, sweetie, not yours,” she assured Sameen.

“I am not dealing with that,” Shaw declared and Fusco shook his head at how easily his friend could be set off. His thoughts were visible on his face and he caught the cautionary look on Root’s face.

“I swear,” he said, putting his hand up defensively. “I didn’t even mean to do that.”

But it was too late.

“Look, I’m just letting you two know, that I am not dealing with any mess that may or may not happen with your breakup,” Shaw announced and feeling good that the two had been forewarned.

Ayala was about to protest, but Martine actually had gotten to understand Shaw’s rants because she heard them daily. “I got this,” she said to Ayala. “Thanks for the heads up, Shaw.”

“Okay, then,” Shaw said, satisfied that everyone had been put on notice.

* * *

The group was all leaving when John, who spoke only a handful of words the whole night, reminded Shaw he’d see her bright and early. “See you on the mat at eight o’clock, Shaw,” he said smiling.

“Right, eight o’clock!” Shaw scoffed.

“Make sure you eat a good breakfast,” Reese suggested.

“What are you talking about?” Joss asked because she knew he was setting something up.

“Oh, that’s right; I didn’t get a chance to tell you. Shaw’s challenged me to a mini-triathlon. Shooting, martial arts, and what was the third thing, Shaw?” John asked. “Oh, yes, driving.”

“This I have _got_ to see,” Fusco said and put it in his calendar.

“Do you actually _work_ anymore?” Shaw asked him, annoyed that he would be so quick to find this entertaining.

“Thankfully, murders are down,” Fusco shrugged his shoulders.

“I can change that,” Shaw barked. “Fine, Reese. I’ll be there. Why are we starting with the mat? How about I shoot you and then we can just skip the other two.”

Her verbal barbs were fine when she was with her group of friends who understood the idle threats. But Sameen didn’t mind sharing this with the general public. “I’m begging you,” Fusco said to Root. “She’s going to wind up in a cell one day from those threats. Then, what will happen?”

He was asking the wrong woman about what would happen with Sameen in a jail cell.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Root smiled and her whole body swayed with the memory of how hot that had been.

“I thought we’d start with the mat,” Reese continued to jab, “…because you’re not getting past that, Shaw.”

It was amazing how both of her male friends knew _exactly_ what buttons to push to get Sameen to go off. “I won’t get past? Are you kidding? You might want to take the day off, Joss, because someone is going to need help tomorrow.”

“I hope the two of you do not want to hang out with Taylor,” his mother said because she was certain he was more mature at the moment.

* * *

They said goodnight and Sameen and Root headed towards Root’s car that was waiting. Martine offered to take Ayala and Azar back to the City, but Azar said she would get a taxi. Root turned to Sameen who agreed they should give her a lift back. There was silence in the car until Sameen remembered something.

“Are you following up with all of your treatments?” she asked her mother.

“Yes, dear,” Azar said as she sat across from them in the limo. The street lights pierced the glass and shone in her dark eyes and perfectly coiffed black hair. For a woman who had been to hell and back, her face didn’t seem to show the signs of it.

“Do you like the doctors? Are they nice to you?” Sameen asked in her round of questions.

“Yes, Sameen, they are very nice,” Azar said and thanked the heavens they were because she knew her daughter would remedy that if they weren’t.

Silence befell the car as Sameen ran out of questions.

“I was thinking of looking at some property in Connecticut,” Azar said as they traveled along the highway into Manhattan.

“Like a house?” Sameen asked.

“Yes, something small, but something where I could grow a garden and have a room for my painting,” Azar shared.

“You paint?” Sameen asked and her mother told her she did, although she hadn’t done it in a very long time.

Azar let out a soft laugh. “I wanted to go to art school at one point in my life. Do you… draw, Sameen?”

“Only guns,” the woman who always had an answer retorted.

“I guess that does fit,” Azar smiled.

When they arrived at the hotel, Azar thanked her daughter and Root again. “I know you had help, Samantha, but I think in its own way, it is trying to impress you,” she said of the machine.

“She,” Root corrected her, as she did everyone, because she felt it was important.

“Yes; _she_ ,” Azar smiled and took this as a deeper sign that the woman and the machine were bound together. She leaned over and kissed Sameen goodnight on the cheek before getting out of the car.

Root watched as the very quick Sameen slowly lifted her hand to her cheek, without saying a word. She slid her hand onto Sameen’s leg and just kept it there. Sameen continued to stare out the window as she dropped her hand onto Root’s and gently squeezed it.

Root watched as the tears pushed at Shaw’s eyes, desperately trying to escape in the expression of all that she felt. But that was not tonight.

It was, however, the closest they ever got before Sameen fought them back.

* * *

Root walked with Sameen upstairs where Bear greeted them warmly. After their hasty exit that day, he was concerned that Shaw had finally gotten them arrested.

“Watch _this_ ,” Sameen said and pointed at Bear and then the kitchen. Root watched in amazement as the dog took off and went into the other room. “Wait for it…,” Sameen said softly as Root wondered what the two of them were up to. Seconds later, Bear pushed through the kitchen door and scampered on the tile floor, past the dining room table, and into the living area.

“What does he have?” Root asked of the object in his mouth.

Sameen reached down and retrieved the beer bottle that was held gingerly in the dog’s mouth. Now, Root adored the animal and felt he was one of a kind; but that didn’t mean she would drink out of a bottle that had just been in Bear’s mouth.

Like Sameen just did.

“Do you want me …?” Root was asking and grabbing a napkin when Shaw raised the bottle to her mouth and drank. “Okay,” Root whispered.

“What?” Shaw asked when she saw the concern on her partner’s face.

“Aren’t you … the bottle?” Root asked, aware that Bear was staring at her.

“Nah,” Sameen said, calling the dog to come up on the couch and sit between them.

“Do not offer him any,” Root advised and Sameen shook her head and murmured of course not.

“Are you sure you should be drinking the night before your big triathlon?” Root teased.

“Oh, I want a trophy!” Shaw said. “A big one. Can we get one of those, so I can put it on my desk, so John has to see it every day?”

Root grabbed her phone and texted her team. “Consider it done.”

“I can’t wait to see his face,” Sameen said.

Bear looked over at Root with a raised eyebrow and whined his concern that the bigger two legged person might just win. A second series of yelps informed Root that perhaps she might want to have something special for dinner tomorrow night.

“Good idea,” she said to the dog and winked.

Sameen caught on immediately. “You are the worst winker, do you know that?” she said and meant it.

“What?” Root asked, amazed and surprised by the accusation.

Bear decided to get off the couch and go rest. He wanted no part of this.

“You don’t know how to wink. I’ve seen you. You try with a lot of effort,” Sameen said, teasing Root now by forcing one eye to close slowly. “You can’t do it.”

“I can, too,” Root protested and tried to demonstrate her skill. It was exactly as she had done before; forced and awkward.

“Come here, I’ll teach you,” Shaw said, taking her hands and facing her directly. “Try to lower only one lid quickly,” she said and Root did and burst out laughing.

“Wait, I can…,” Root declared, but her next effort was just as bad.

“You can’t because your eyes are too busy laughing. They’re exhausted by the time you try to use them to wink,” Shaw surmised.

“That’s not true! Am I doing it now?” Root asked, this time worse than the last because she was concentrating.

“You’re not going to win any awards,” Sameen teased and tried to get away, but slowed down so Root could grab her and pull her back on her lap.

“Well, at least you know I won’t be winking at any other women,” Root settled for.

“Hey, none of that,” Shaw said, her jealousy right there in case she ever needed it. “I don’t share,” she said, turning so Root could kiss her. “By the way, you’re kissing the lips that touched the bottle that was in Bear’s mouth,” she whispered.

“The things I do for you,” Root said, before flipping Sameen over so she could sit atop her. “You better do better than this tomorrow or John will win,” she teased and knew in a second, Sameen would pull her down and flip her over.

“Not a chance,” Shaw said.

* * *

While Sameen was predicting her victory, John was getting the slightest of lectures.

“You know you’re _both_ grownups, right?” Joss asked as they said goodnight.

“Yes,” John answered because he always answered questions, even rhetorical ones.

“One of you could get hurt, and I’m starting to worry it might be you,” she explained.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” John said of the possibilities.

“I promise to be there,” Joss said slowly.

“For the match?” John asked.

“To help you eat that humble pie,” Joss answered.

“Not a chance,” John smiled.


	70. Round and Round

Harold paced the hallway in his usual anxious fashion, waiting for Root to arrive. He was just informed about the Shaw-Reese triathlon, and was not happy. As soon as Root got off the elevator, he was rushing toward her.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said without even having to announce what he was taking about.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Root said. “Besides, it’s for a good cause,” she pointed out as she walked past him and went into her office.

“A good cause? What possible cause?” he asked out loud.

“Cause Sameen looks incredibly hot when she’s shooting, driving and whatever the other thing is where she’ll knock John down,” Root explained, but now was lost in her thoughts and staring out the window.

Harold was silent while he checked to make sure he heard his adopted niece correctly. “While I admire your gusto for Miss Shaw’s charismatic approach to all things physical, I fear that we are encouraging a rather pugilistic atmosphere,” he said in more words than were necessary.

It took a couple of seconds and also Harold clearing his throat before Root rejoined him. “No, it’s sportsmanship, comradery, and team building,” she said, choosing words to put a more eloquent spin on “ _My girlfriend is so damn hot_.”

“I seem to remember the last time we endorsed this, Miss Shaw got distracted and was injured,” Harold reminded Root.

She bit her lip remembering she was the one who distracted Sameen. “Oh, you’re right,” she said and Harold was letting out a sigh of relief when Root added, “I won’t talk to her until she’s done.”

* * *

“Five dollar donation,” Janine was shouting to anyone who wanted to be admitted to the company event. “Shaw or Reese?” she asked Fusco when he handed her the money.

“What?” he asked because he was hoping to appear impartial.

“You get a t-shirt,” Janine explained. “Which one?”

Lionel was afraid that John wouldn’t have any supporters. “Okay, _Reese_ ,” he said and rolled the shirt up and stuffed it under his arm. He entered the employees’ gym and found that the crowd was more equally divided than he expected. “ _Reese_?” he asked a guy who was wearing a t shirt with his name on it.

“Yeah, you gotta feel sorry for the guy. He’s never going to win,” the man explained.

Fusco watched as John appeared in athletic pants and a t-shirt. “I thought for a second you’d be in a suit,” Lionel teased him.

“Don’t be silly, Lionel,” John said in his usual formal voice.

“Look, I don’t know how you’re actually going to do this, because you can’t _actually_ touch her,” Lionel explained.

“Are you _asking_ me or _telling_ me?” John asked.

“I don’t know why you agreed to this,” Fusco complained. “It’s a no win situation,” he said, thinking about things from his own perspective.

“What t-shirt did you get?” John asked, noticing the bundle under his arm.

The frustrated friend sighed and pulled it out. “Yours, but only because I’ll need something to wrap your head in when she hurts you.”

“Thanks for the concern, buddy, but I think I got this,” John said.

“Got this? You don’t _got_ this. She’s like five foot three of dynamite and she’s as strong as a bull,” Lionel said from experience. “Look at this black and blue,” he offered as proof and pulled his arm out of his jacket and pulled up his sleeve.

“I just have to let her wear herself out,” John said, because that was his plan.

“Good luck with that,” Fusco said and then saw Sameen walking in with Root. He went to say hello, stopping for a second to shove his choice of t-shirt into someone else’s bag.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he asked Sameen as he approached.

“Hello to you, too,” she responded with his usual line. “Worried about your friend, Lionel?” she asked with a smirk.

“He’s older than you,” Fusco pointed out. “Even for you, beating up a senior would be new low.”

‘You don’t know that,” Shaw smiled.

“I think what Lionel is saying,” Root intervened, “Is good luck,” she explained and then kissed Shaw.

“Yeah, _without_ the kissing,” Lionel said.

“But that’s the best part,” Root said and accomplished what she wanted. Lionel left speechless.

* * *

Shaw shook out her arms and legs to get warmed up. Janine was by her side instantly with a water bottle. “I got the kind with the straw so I could just squirt it right into your mouth,” she announced, having given this a great deal of thought.

“Oh, good…,” Shaw was saying when she got the first squirt of water right into her mouth.

“So thoughtful,” Root said, slowly moving her body in front of Janine as Shaw coughed. “Let’s get you settled over here.”

Sameen smiled at people wishing her good luck and asked Root, again, why everything at BEAR had to be audience style. “You and John are respected members of our little family,” Root explained, but she had more important issues to discuss. “Now, Sweetie, last time I distracted you and gave your opponent the upper hand,” Root was saying.

“Yeah, literally,” Shaw inserted because she didn’t like to lose.

“Well, I won’t do that this time. I’ll be over here on the bench cheering you on without making you lose focus,” Root declared.

“Okay, thanks,” Shaw said and then asked what the format was.

“You have three tests; the martial arts, then shooting in the range, and then…,” Root said, letting her finger touch the muscled arm of her lover.

“ _Then_?” Shaw said, because Root was lost in the touch of the human steel.

“Then…,” Root said, but the blood was rushing from her brain to other parts of her body.

“Then, Root?” Shaw asked impatiently.

“Oh,” Root said, coming back. “Then, whoever finishes first get to drive the car first.”

Fusco and Reese might have known how to set their friend off easily, but Root knew how to really get her all fired up.

“And, Sameen?” she asked in a seductive tone. “The car... is... a McLaren F1,” she said slowly, knowing the effect it would have on the woman who loved fast cars.

“A…,” she stammered, “….McLaren? F1?” Shaw asked, her eyes wild with excitement.

“Red,” Root said, smiling, her shoulder swaying for emphasis.

“Six point one litre engine?” Shaw asked, holding Root’s arms now with excitement.

Root hesitated. “I... think so,” she confessed.

“V12?” Shaw asked, tightening her grip.

Root was afraid to admit she didn’t know the specs. “Ye-ss!” she said, hoping that was the right answer.

Shaw licked her lips. “Do you know it was the first road car to use a complete carbon fiber reinforced polymer monocoque chassis structure?” Shaw asked, her eyes getting glassy. “It used aluminum and magnesium for attachment points for the suspension system, inserted directly into the CFRP,” Shaw described.

“It’s very fast,” Root said, because that’s how she chose the car.

“Where?” Shaw said, unable to form complete sentences.

“There’s a track in Brooklyn, forty minutes away. We’ll video it for everyone here,” Root was explaining.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said, trying to remember why she was there. “Right,” she said when she realized she had a couple of things to do before she got her hands on that car.

“So, Sameen?” Root said slowly, because she had decided how to guarantee Shaw’s victory. “You don’t want John to drive it first, right?”

Shaw’s head snapped back. “What? No,” she said and Root tilted her head, smiled and pursed her lips. All signals to Sameen to – “ _Go get him_.”

* * *

If John thought he could simply avoid Shaw’s physical moves, he had another thing coming. They moved around in a circular motion until Shaw did what she did best. She sized up where John’s weaknesses were. Moving at him with the speed of light, Shaw grabbed him around his waist to toss him. The moment was almost comical because John stood there, rock solid as Sameen pushed at him furiously. He didn’t even put his hands on her.

His agreeing to do this was never about winning; it was always about helping Sameen learn not to challenge everyone just because they crossed her path. An important lesson, perhaps, but not one that she would learn today.

Given how close she was to the much taller man, she slipped her foot around to the back of his knee and pushed. John fell instantly. Then, she straddled his chest, pinning his arms against the mat. He attempted to move his lower body, but she kept the pressure on and he couldn’t flip her.

Team Shaw supporters shouted loudly for their candidate’s victory.

Team Reese shouted loudly, too, happy he wasn’t hurt.

“Come on, Reese,” Shaw said, pulling the stunned man to his feet.

“She can bench-press a hundred and fifty-five pounds,” Root said dreamily.

“And kickass a hundred and ninety pounds,” Janine added. Root smiled and fist bumped the adoring assistant.

“Come on, Reese, move it,” Shaw said, rushing out of the gym to the firing range. Twenty minutes later, Shaw had beaten him by ten points. Her target hits were all dead center. Only one of John’s had missed, but it cost him.

* * *

Janine announced there would be a one hour break while the contestants went to the track. Forty minutes later, Reese, Shaw and Root were all at the location along with the team that would broadcast the event.

“Sameen, please remember, this car goes … very fast,” Root said, not knowing the particulars.

“Very,” Shaw said, biting her lower lip when she saw the car.

“Once around the track; best time wins,” the man in charge said and went to hand the key to Shaw.

“You go first, Reese,” she said and John looked at her.

“You don’t want to drive that first?” he asked, surprised because Sameen had done nothing but talk about the specs of the car the whole way there.

“I’m still going to beat you,” she said, smiling to John. “I can be polite.”

“Really?” Reese couldn’t help but let out. “Thanks, Shaw.” He took the key, walked to the car and started it up.

“Oh, my, God,” Shaw said, sorry to miss out on being inside the vehicle when that roar went off.

“That was very sweet of you,” Root shouted as the green flag was waved and John took off around the track.

Sameen looked up and Root and winked.

Seconds later, John was back. It was the most animated and excited either woman had ever seen him.

“Fifteen point six-seven,” the man who kept the official time announced. John had pushed the car hard and had done well.

“No problem,” Shaw said, taking the key. “Get ready,” Shaw said to Root and leaned in for a kiss.

Root watched as her girlfriend ran her hands slowly over the controls of the car. The man raised the green flag, snapped it downward, and Sameen was off.

The car seemed to go much faster when she drove it, Root thought, and yet still, she counted the seconds for her to return. Shaw was back and the car came to a screeching halt.

“Fourteen point five-seven,” the man announced and Root jumped in the air excitedly. “She won!” she said, hugging John who stood there stiffly.

But instead of getting out of the car to accept John’s congratulations, the engine roared loudly. The passenger hatch door flew up. “Get in, Root,” Shaw said and Root looked at John.

“You didn’t think she was going to give it back, did you?” he smiled. “I’ll see you back at work.”

Reese and Shaw always seemed to predict each other’s actions because they shared many of the same deviant behaviors.

* * *

Root ran to the car, got in and waited as Sameen showed her how to do the seat buckle. Watching her girlfriend’s arms holding onto the wheel, Root screamed when they took off. Sameen pressed on the gas as track staff realized she was not staying on the road, but rather, leaving the track altogether. They quickly opened the gate so the car and passengers could fly through.

John watched as the two friends took off and were out of sight in no time. He reached for his phone. “Lionel?” he said when the detective picked up. “Yeah, I lost,” he answered Lionel’s question, because the detective was not at BEAR. “Shaw took the car back,” John updated him.

“What does that have to do with me, Second Place?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure she’s going to break the speed limit, Lionel,” John informed their friend.

“For the last time,” Lionel said, “I am a _homicide_ detective. Not the highway patrol.”

“Who’s Shaw gonna kill if the cops arrest her, Lionel?” John asked, doing both his friends a favor.

“Oh,” Fusco said and stuffed his gun back into the holster as he headed for his car.


	71. Speed of LIght

There wasn’t much that scared the spontaneous Root, but some of the turns that Sameen took in the red sports car, did make her heart flutter. She tried to keep her eyes on the road, but it was much more fun watching the gleeful expression on Shaw’s face as she switched gears, making the engine roar through the streets.

“That’s right, buddy,” Shaw said to guys who looked at the car as she slowed it down to a crawl, “…look and drool, look and drool.” Then, if they tried to come closer, she sped up saying, “No touchy.”

Root turned sideways as best she could to enjoy the sight of her girlfriend. “This is your kind of fantasy, isn’t it?” Root asked because she identified with the expression of sheer exhilaration. Usually, Root’s fantasies came with a costume. The fact that Shaw’s came with a machine should have been no surprise.

“This… is… awesome!” Shaw said, the most spontaneous Root had seen her in public. “I just wish we could cruise it straight down the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway,” Shaw mused as they were sitting at a light.

Root knew that stretch of highway that connected Brooklyn to the tunnel or bridge that led into Manhattan. It was never without traffic jams and slowdowns, no matter the time of day. She bit her lip as her mind raced with the question. The engine of the car roared so loud, it jolted her out of her deep thought.

“Stupid traffic,” Shaw said, looking around for an escape which included momentary entertainment of sidewalks, but she didn’t want to risk damaging the car.

Root’s eye’s darted right and left as she contemplated what she was about to do. There was no harm in just inquiring, she convinced herself.

“Do you have any idea how fast we would be down this stretch if there weren’t traffic?” Shaw proposed.

That convinced Root what she was asking would only take seconds. She grabbed her phone and pressed the keys furiously.

‘ _Yes, it can be done_ ,’ the machine answered.

‘ _Any danger_?’ Root asked.

‘ _None that I can foresee, but there are always consequences_ ,’ the machine reminded her.

‘ _No one gets hurt_?’ Root typed as Shaw droned on about how people didn’t know how to drive and she wished they would redo the driving test to include a written essay portion.

‘ _No, as long as Sameen does not lose control of the car,_ ’ the machine said.

Root looked over at how deftly Sameen handled the car. ‘ _No chance of that_ ,’ she typed back.

‘ _Tell Sameen to go as soon as the light turns green,_ ’ the machine instructed.

“Sameen, sweetie, as soon as the light turns green, I want you to …….’ Root said, but was thrust backwards as Sameen took off. The cars that were behind her and on either side also started, but the light was only green for a second and then turned back to red. There was plenty of yelling and honking, but no one followed the red sports cars.

“Suckas,” Shaw taunted from inside the car. It made perfect sense to Sameen that her reflexes were faster than any of the other drivers.

It wasn’t just that red light that the machine toyed with. She also kept the lights red at all of the entryways to the highway, which meant for the next few miles, Sameen should have the road to herself.

“Do you see everyone back there? No, you can’t because they’re not driving this baby,” Sameen delighted thinking it was her driving acuity that had her so far ahead.

Root smiled as they passed entryways filled with cars at red stoplights that were tweaked to last a little bit longer than usual.

According to the machine’s calculations, all of this would take less than five minutes. Plenty of time to get Shaw through the traffic-less Brooklyn highway and on her way to Manhattan.

An uneasy feeling rose in Root’s gut, but she kept looking around and all seemed to be going smoothly.

* * *

Things had also been going well for Detectives Jackson and Phillips, who had closed in on the house where the identified suspect was. Of course, the woman wasn’t going without a fight and traded shots with the police. But she was outnumbered as they surrounded her house. Jackson was about to give the signal to enter the premises when the suspect drove right through the garage door and blew it off its hinges. Screeching tires told the cops the suspect had entered the garage via the house and was now making her getaway.

Sirens and lights that ordinarily would have guaranteed the police passage through a traffic jam, were ineffective when there was nowhere for the cars to go. The only one who managed to get through via a back alley and sidewalk was the suspect herself.

“GET THAT WOMAN!” Jackson yelled as cars tried to move out of their way.

* * *

Sameen might have noticed the empty road if she weren’t so busy taunting the other cars that didn’t have a V-12 engine with the horsepower of a small missile. Root smiled, counting down the time, but then noticed a car up ahead. It seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Finally!” Sameen said, wanting to leave another car in the dust. She caught up in no time and was about to pass the woman in style when a sea of red and blue lights appeared in her rear view mirror. “Oh, shooooot,” Sameen said and it was more of a whine than a curse. She pulled over to the side of the highway, certain that the cops would be so impressed with her car, they’d let her go with a warning.

“I could outrun them,” she noted and cast an eye over to Root whose dubious expression confirmed she should stop.

Much to their surprise though, as Sameen opened the hatch door on the driver’s side, the cars went whipping by her. The only thing she did see was Detective Jackson’s face staring at her from the passenger side of an unmarked car.

“Hey, was that…?” Sameen asked, watching the cars pull away. “That looked just like…”

Root let out a tittering laugh as she looked at her phone. ‘ _Suspect is evading them in a blue Honda sedan,_ ’ the machine updated Root. ‘ _There is a seventy eight point four percent chance that Detective Jackson will not arrest Sameen if you are able to apprehend the suspect._ ’

“Seventy-eight percent?” Root shouted and Shaw looked at her.

“What?” Sameen asked, closing the door as more cop cars joined in the chase.

“Sameen, make a right up here, now,” Root said and used her hand to indicate to go fast.

“Geesh, okay,” Sameen said, surprised at the change in Root’s tone. “Not like I can’t get there in a hurry,” she pointed out as the car roared.

“We have a detour,” Root said and pointed to where Sameen should go.

“Hey, Google-map lady, want to tell me where we’re going?” Shaw asked, stuck back on the side streets where she had to go slow.

“Right up here, faster,” Root said and kept looking for the designated car.

“Right, now I’m an Uber driver in a hundred and fifty thousand dollar car,” Shaw complained, but complied.

“A hundred and eighy-seven,” Root corrected her.

“I could have gotten them to come down,” Sameen argued about the price.

“Sameen, do you trust me?” Root said and put her hand on Shaw’s steel arm.

“Yes,” Shaw said, her frown indicating she was confused. “I still think you could have gotten it for less…”

“I need you to make a left up here. At the end of the street is a garage. I need you to drive through the garage door,” Root instructed carefully.

“You want me to…,” Shaw said, now not moving because she couldn’t imagine what kind of joke this was.

“The suspect in Detective Jackson’s murder case just went into that garage and we have six seconds to drive there, through the doors and capture her,” Root said.

“How? What are you?” Shaw tried, but Root gave her that look that clearly indicated that she was wasting time. “Geezus!” Shaw bellowed as she took off, made the left hand turn and watched as the building came closer and closer to her car.

“Are you sure we have to …,” she asked, giving it one more try.

“THROUGH IT, SAMEEN!” Root shouted and Shaw followed her instructions, plowing the red sports car right through the door and pinning the blue car with the suspect in it, against the wall.

The women were thrown forward and back with force. Sameen had managed to slow the car’s forward momentum enough that airbags were not deployed. The woman pinned in the other car was jolted and unable to get move at first. Stunned by the sudden impact, she finally got her bearings and tried to get out the passenger window.

“Oh, would you look at this!” Sameen said when she saw the scratches and dents to the magnificent red machine.

“Sweetie?” Root said when the other party tried to get out the car window.

“Hey!” Sameen said and rolled over the front of the car to grab her as Root stepped in her way of her exit.

“Look what happened to this car!” Sameen yelled at the woman who was too shook up to run.

“She really likes that car,” Root pointed out to the escaped killer.

“You… you totaled my car,” the suspect screamed.

“Your _getaway_ car,” Root pointed out while Sameen emphasized that her car was far superior and the damage was worse because she had the better machine.

The woman may have been unsteady on her feet, but that didn’t meant she forgot how to pull a gun. Which she did and pointed it at Root.

The only thing faster than that red sports car that day was Sameen’s instincts to protect Root. She tackled the woman to the ground and removed the weapon from her hand. Then, Shaw pulled her up roughly, telling her how close she was to dying that day, because she wasn’t sure she could come up with a reason not to strangle her right there.

Then… the reason appeared.

Detective Jackson suddenly appeared in the busted doorway with flashing lights and blaring sirens in the background.  “Shaw?” she said first because Sameen was holding the suspect. “Ms. Groves?” she asked second because she didn’t expect to see the two women there. “How?” Jackson was about to ask when she motioned for the cops to take the suspect away. She walked over to Root and Shaw and stared at them.

Unsure of which defense to go with first, Sameen simply pointed out the damage to her car.

“The city is going to pay for this,” she said, way ahead of where the detective was at the moment.

“Are you two okay?” the woman asked because technically, these were civilians who had captured the suspect.

“Oh, yes, we’re fine,” Root said smiling and added, “…thanks to Sameen.”

Shaw wanted to give credit where credit was due, especially to convince the detective who stood there very stiffly. “No, Root, you knew to turn left and crash right through the doors,” Shaw said and Root bit her lip.

“You did?” Jackson asked, wondering how that came about. Her tone reminded Sameen that she didn’t have all the facts yet.

“But look at my car,” she tried to segue. “Someone is paying for the damages to my car.”

“The car... that you somehow ...knew to plow through the door?” the cop asked because uncovering the truth is what she did for a living.

“Well, yes, but we were …,” Shaw said looking at Root to fill in that answer.

It really pays to have a genius for a girlfriend.

“We heard the getaway car description over the scanner at the same time that the car entered the intersection. I admit, it was dangerous to follow her, but Sameen insisted that we help the police not lose the suspect,” Root said and Sameen smiled broadly to agree.

“You have a police scanner? In _that_ car?” Jackson asked and walked over to the vehicle.

Shaw looked at Root and for a split second she was going to tell her to run for it and she would take the heat. But suddenly, the crackled sound of police chatter came over the speaker in the car. “All units in the vicinity of Pearl Street; suspect has been apprehended.”

The detective turned to look at Root at the very same moment that Shaw did. Both were surprised.

“Being a consultant for the NYPD,” Root began her explanation, “I thought it was important for Sameen to have that in her car.”

“She did,” Shaw immediately confirmed.

“Well, I’m glad you two are okay,” the suspicious, but grateful, detective said. “We will need to follow up later, but I would appreciate it if you two would go home and rest.” Root thought it was so thoughtful of the cop to be worried about them, until she added, “And when I say that, I mean in _Manhattan_. No offense, but you two ….,” the woman said and didn’t want to insult the women who just helped her, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up whenever she saw them. “There’s just… _something_ ,” she murmured as she walked away.

When Shaw felt the woman was far enough away, she said; “Oh, there’s _something_ alright. We’re _badass_ …,” and the detective turned around quickly on her heels. “And going back to Manhattan,” Sameen coughed.

* * *

Minutes later, the sports car was back on the street, dented and scratched, but purring like the mechanical animal it was.

“Did you really get a police scanner, because I never heard it,” Shaw said, patting the dashboard to comfort the machine.

“Not exactly,” Root said and smiled. “I think we had help.”

“What kind of help?” Shaw asked, aware of the hesitation in Root’s voice.

“Let’s talk about it over … dinner,” Root suggested.

“Dinner? I haven’t had lunch yet,” Shaw complained.

“Lunch it is,” Root said, trying to figure out if this was a good thing, or an out-of-this-world scary thing.

"And I want my trophy," Shaw remembered. 

"Yes, Sameen," Root smiled.


	72. Thelma and Louise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this happened.

It wasn’t until Shaw pulled over outside of the BEAR building did she get a good look at the damage to the car. “I can’t believe it,” she said, running her hand over the front of the hood.

“Well, it’s my fault. I told you to go through the garage door,” Root reminded her.

“Oh, yeah, how did you know?” Shaw asked, Root’s word reminding her.

“Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tell you all about it,” Root smiled and grabbed Sameen’s arm.

“But look … at the car …,” Shaw said longingly.

“We’ll trade it in for a new one,” Root explained as they went into the elevator. “I’ll tell them we need something a little … more durable,” Root smiled.

“Wait, we’re getting a car?” Shaw practically yelled. “To… _keep_?”

“Don’t you think we need one?” Root asked having thought it all out.

“YES!” Sameen agreed. “YES- WE-DO!”

“I think so, too,” Root smiled, leaning in to touch Sameen with her body.

“Okay, but I’ll go with you and we’ll get the right price. I’m very good at that,” Shaw announced.

Root laughed at Shaw’s unbridled enthusiasm. “I need a few minutes upstairs,” she said to Shaw. “Then, we’ll go to lunch?”

“Yes, yes we do,” Shaw answered, still stuck on the previous question.

* * *

Root needed some alone time to think about what she had chosen to do. She used the very machine she had warned not to do things independently. This time she sought her out. ‘…there will be consequences,’ the machine said and this time, maybe they were lucky. She paced the office trying to figure out how to sort through this. If she asked Harold, he’d get all philosophical about it. No, she needed someone who could understand her dilemma.

She needed Azar.

In an unusual moment of self-doubt, Root confessed to Azar that she had used the machine for her own purpose because she wanted Sameen to have what she wanted. She wasn’t sure what the former proprietor of the machine would say, but she figured it would touch on some warnings of catastrophic consequences. Instead, Azar’s honey warm voice was empathic.

“It is very tempting to use it for you own gain,” she said and added, “… it was why I took it in the first place.”

Root hadn’t thought about it like that, but it was true.

“When I realized that I couldn’t go back to Sameen; that my attempts could put her in danger, I knew I had to leave. I took the most circuitous geographic route I could to throw them off, until I landed in the Middle East. The machine became my tether to Sameen; allowing me to see her grow up. So, Samantha, I understand how easily one could use it for their own good.”

"She," Root said, never tiring of correcting people on that point.  Root’s mind processed information very quickly. The downside to this was the number of questions that the information then produced.

“Did you use the machine to _help_ Sameen?” Root segued.

Azar let out a soft laugh. “The machine in my hands was a different entity than in yours, Samantha. You don’t know that yet, but I can see it already. I had a particular mission in mind for this program; to watch my daughter. She never interfered in her life, even when I wish that she could,” she said and Root could hear the sadness in her voice.

“Like when?” Root pressed now that the older woman opened the door.

There was silence and Root understood that Azar was contemplating if she should answer it. Finally, she said; “When that asinine medical staff dismissed her from the hospital. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to do something. She was …,” she slowed down. “… _hurt_.”

“Sameen’s version of that story was that it was her lack of expressing emotion that they used as reason to terminate. I know that wasn’t true, but how do you know?” Root asked and her vitals were increasing.

Again, silence filled the space between them for a moment. “I saw it; I was there.”

“You mean the machine was giving you feed from a camera? “ Root asked to be sure.

“I was in the hospital,” Azar said.

“But how did you know when it would happen?” Root asked, leaning closer to the speaker phone.

“I knew that the machine by itself was not going to accomplish all I wanted. So, I amassed a great deal of money while I was oversees. I got myself appointed to certain boards …,” she explained.

“Like the one at that hospital?” Root deduced.

“Yes, and that way I could keep an eye on the medical staff. When they informed the board of the newest hiring’s and firing’s, I saw her name,” Azar explained.

"Didn’t you try to stop them?” Root said angrily because if she had been on the board, all hell would have broken loose.

“Please remember, Samantha, there was a part of my life that demanded I remain a ghost. I visited the establishments where I was a board member, but could only do so when it was necessary,” Azar explained. “And yes, I fought like hell for the members to back up their decision. I fought very hard for Sameen, but in the end, I was outvoted,” Azar said solemnly.

“You were … _there_? Why couldn’t you tell Sameen? Why couldn’t you tell her then who you were?” Root said, her voice demanding.

“It was always about her safety, Samantha. I would see her … in the hallway at a distance, and I wanted so much to go to her. To touch her and tell her how sorry I was. I couldn’t risk it. I never stayed more than twenty-four hours. I never wanted to be tailed or if I was, I wanted it to appear as if I were on business. Please believe me, Samantha, my heart shattered into a million pieces every time I let her down.”

Root’s breathing was labored. Just hearing about how devastated Sameen was made her insane with anger. “I want the name of the person responsible for firing her,” Root said, her voice low and heated.

“Samantha, they believed they were making the best decision,” Azar said because she had heard it firsthand.

“Never mind,” Root said and disconnected the call. She wanted to feel sorry for what Azar must have gone through and she did, but her priority was always Sameen-centric.

If Azar’s point in sharing was to be empathic to Root’s desire to use the machine to fulfill Sameen’s wishes, she added something to it; Root’s anger at anyone doing anything to hurt Sameen.

Root turned to the computer and typed her password into the message window.

“I want the name of the individuals responsible for firing Sameen at Mercy Hospital,” she said and there was silence. That stillness was filled with the machine analyzing Root’s voice.

“You are very angry,” the machine noted.

“Get me the name,” Root commanded.

“Spencer Hill, M.D. He is Chief of Staff now at Manhattan General,” the machine answered.

“Not for long, he isn’t,” Root answered.

* * *

When Shaw was angry, her actions were precision like maneuvers because of all her years of military training. When Root was angry, she was like a laser, cutting through anything that got in her way. Shaw was used to anger; she was good at it.

Root? Not so much.

She burst into the conference room where Sameen was in a short meeting and barked for everyone to get out. The other staff members had never seen their CEO so furious.

“What the hell, Root?” Shaw asked, because she was surprised, too.

“Do you want to be a doctor?” Root asked because she was actually speaking faster than her brain could put this all together.

“Root, I’ve been the _doctor_ and the _prisoner_. Don’t you want to switch it up a little?” Shaw asked, thinking Root was planning her next fantasy. “You seem…” she tried.

“If they hadn’t fired you, would you still be a doctor?” Root yelled angrily and now there was no mistaking it.

“Root? What’s going on?” Shaw said and the closer she got, the more upset Root became.

“They should never have fired you and I’m going to make them pay. Don’t stop me, Sameen. I don’t need her to do my dirty work. I will strangle that man with my own hands,” Root declared with conviction.

“O…kay,” Shaw said, seeing how upset her girlfriend was. “I’m going to need you to sit here with me, okay? And please tell me what’s going on before we take off and strangle people. That’s fair, right?”

The shoe was on the other foot as Sameen tried to calm a very agitated Root down. But Root was determined that she wasn’t going to let the world be unfair to Sameen and get away with it.

“You wouldn’t let me hire Cole to go after the people who hurt you oversees,” Root reminded her. “But you went after the man who was cruel to me. Well, I’m not letting people who were cruel to you get away with it!”

Shaw pulled Root gently to sit down because she knew a loose cannon when she saw one. And _this_ cannon had a high IQ, money, and a machine that listened.

“I feel like something happened since I left you before. Can you enlighten me?” Shaw asked and her voice was calming. In fact, it was the only thing getting through to Root.

“I talked to your mother,” Root said.

“Oh, that might explain this,” Shaw said even though it didn’t.

“No, I called her to ask her if I did the wrong thing by involving the machine today. I had her keep the lights red so we could drive alone on the highway, before the escaped killer, of course,” Root started to slowly explain.

“Damn woman,” Shaw said because that detour spoiled her fun. “Wait, you had the machine do that?”

“Yes,” Root said a little calmer now. “That’s how I knew where the suspect was.”

“Oh, so that’s why we had to smash the car through the garage,” Sameen said, connecting the dots. “And it couldn’t come up with any other way?”

“ _She_ ,” Root said. “And she did that so Detective Jackson wouldn’t arrest you.”

“Me? Ohhhh,” Shaw said, feeling like the dots she was trying to connect were moving around. “So, I was speeding, the cops were coming, but we caught the suspect, so Jackson overlooked my speeding ticket? Is that it?”

“The short version, yes,” Root said.

“Okay, so we broke the speeding limit, but saved the day, and voila, we are back at work. Could you skip to the part where you’re talking to my mother and suddenly go Rambo on me?” Shaw asked, and her smile momentarily softened Root.

“We were talking about the machine and you and how she used her to …,” Root started.

“Yeah, yeah, voyeuristic parenting 101,” Shaw quipped.

“She knew you were fired. She was on the board of the hospital. She was there, Sameen. She may have left for your safety, but she did everything she could to be connected," Root said.

“She was there, where?” Shaw asked, confused.

Root slowly explained what Azar did and how she used her position at the hospital to fight the decision.

“How did she do that?” Shaw asked.

“She left Ayala with her father or relatives when she came. She was always watching out for you,” Root said, getting back to what she and Azar talked about.

Sameen wasn’t angry. She was confused and surprised that her mother was so close, but she wasn’t angry. “What does this have to do with?” was all Sameen got out and Root answered.

“I know who got you fired and I’m going to pay him back,” Root said, “And don’t try to stop me!”

Sameen had already tried that once. She wasn’t sure she’d have the same luck this time.

“Okay, when do we leave?” Shaw asked, pursing her lips so the little creases around her mouth appeared.

“You’re coming with me?” Root inquired.

“I’m your bodyguard,” Shaw said standing up and winking. “Where you go, I go.”

“Really?” Root asked relieved and happy.

“Yes, but can we take the car?” Shaw asked.

“Of course,” Root said and grabbed Sameen’s hand to walk outside.

“Hey, give me a minute and let me tell my babysitter,” Shaw smiled and went over to Janine’s office. She bent down low to speak to the woman.

“Call Reese and tell him to follow us. We may or may not, need him. I’m not sure yet,” Shaw explained.

Sameen may have been going along with Root, but she wasn’t about to let the woman do anything that would get herself into trouble.


	73. Unconditionally

Sameen was used to devising complex plans and carrying out difficult maneuvers, but they usually required sneaking into a place in disguise, and shooting her target. Now, she was following a woman who wanted to march right into a building, announce herself, and strangle a man with her bare hands. Of course, she knew Root would never get to do that because someone would hear the man screaming and come and help him. But she had just avowed her allegiance and was having trouble finding the reasoning Root might listen to. She was also in a car that simply would not slow down, so they arrived at the hospital in record time.

“So, what’s the plan?” Shaw asked, knowing there wasn’t much of one.

“I’m going upstairs, find him, announce why I’m going to strangle him, and then strangle him,” Root said, thinking the outlining of steps made her plan quite methodical.

With that, she was out the passenger seat. Shaw bounced out of the car, threw the key to the drooling parking attendant, and put her fingers to her two eyes to indicate she’d be watching him drive her machine. Of course, she wouldn’t _actually_ be watching because Root was already through the revolving doors of the hospital. Shaw looked up at the security camera thinking their appearance wasn’t so sneaky.

“You gotta have some kind of bucks for this car,” Shaw overheard the attendant and it sparked an idea.

She quickly looked around for Reese and rolled her eyes when, of course, she couldn’t see him. “You got _one_ job,” she grumbled, rushing to catch up. “So, I was thinking,” Shaw said and knew she had to talk fast. “If you really want to hurt this guy, you want to get him where it _really_ hurts,” she said, giving Root the ‘ _right_?’ expression of raised eyebrows and smile.

“You want me to kick him in the balls?” Root said, losing all manner of decorum.

“What? No,” Shaw said and realized she was going to have to be specific. “What do all hospitals need?”

“Patients, and I’m going to give them one,” Root said and Shaw closed her eyes.

“Money, Root. They need _money_. Money talks,” Shaw said and was hoping her words formed an actual idea. “As soon as they see _Samantha Groves_ , they’re going to think money.”

“But I’m here to strangle someone,” Root said matter-of-factly and now Shaw realized people in the elevator just might pick up on that.

“I just want to point out a teeny tiny flaw in your plan,” Shaw said in a low voice as she faced Root. “He’s in a hospital. The most you’ll do is bruise him before someone comes in and revives him.” With that, Shaw nodded a knowing look, hoping Root would see the issue.

“I should have brought a gun,” Root said and now Shaw knew she had to get her away from people. She pulled her off the next floor and over to a bench in a quiet area.

“Root? I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but I don’t want to be a prisoner … for real. The food really sucks in those places,” Shaw appealed to her lover.

“Well, I am doing something to him right now. So pick what you think would work, because I’m not leaving until I hurt him,” Root said, crossing her arms.

“Before we get to that,” Shaw tried and Root rose from her seat because she knew delay tactics when she saw them. “Hold on, one minute,” Shaw begged. “Root, they had their reasons for firing me. They thought I lacked what little compassion is required to be a doctor. Trust me, it’s a very low bar, and they thought I couldn’t even measure up to that,” Shaw reminisced.

“They were unfair,” Root pointed out. “And now he’s going to pay.”

“Root, please?” Shaw said, and she mustered up every ounce of puppy dog eyes she could muster. Root swerved her head a little, and smiled, and couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay,” Root said because Shaw was being adorable. On purpose. She sat back down and Shaw commenced her soliloquy.

“One of my patients had just died. No one’s fault; these things happen. I got the news when I was on break and was charged with telling the family. It had been my experience that the news, no matter how you put it, is a scene maker. There’s nothing you can do. So, I kept eating my energy bar, stopping only to tell them the sad news,” Shaw retold as she paced back and forth.

The problem was, this was old news to Root and now she was set on carrying out her plan. When Shaw turned around, Root was at the elevator.

“Root!” Shaw said, surprised she wasn’t listening attentively. “If they hadn’t fired me, I wouldn’t have joined the marines. I wouldn’t know Fusco; I wouldn’t have known that you needed a bodyguard. I wouldn’t be here!” she emphasized.

“I don’t believe that, Sameen. You and I were meant to be together. So, if you had been a doctor, I would have broken my leg and you would have taken care of me. If you had joined the circus, I would be attending one day and see you across the tent as you flew in the air, and my heart would have melted. Don’t you see, Sameen? No matter what happened, we would have found each other,” Root believed with her whole heart.

“Oh,” Shaw said, giving it her best shot. The elevator door opened and they both got back on. “You don’t think I would have been the lion tamer?”

* * *

Minutes later, they were on floor where Spencer Hill, M.D., occupied his office. As if there were little arrows pointing to his door, Root walked directly to it and pushed it open. His secretary did a hell of a job scurrying around her desk to stop Root.

“That’s Samantha Groves,” Shaw said to the woman.

“Does she have an appointment?” the woman demanded.

“Does she _need_ one?” Shaw countered. It had been her experience that no one refused to see Root.

“Doctor Hill?” the secretary asked and he nodded her off. “Ms. Groves! What a pleasure.”

“Told you,” Shaw rubbed it in.

Then, Sameen followed Root in, all the time wondering what the hell was going to happen.

* * *

“Doctor Hill,” Root said and walked to his desk.  
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu visit?” the man asked. He knew two things about Samantha Groves; she was rich and charitable. Of course, the other beautiful woman with the socialite also caught his attention. “Spencer Hill,” he introduced himself to Sameen. “And you are?”

“Hopefully not the last person to see you alive,” Shaw muttered.

“Please sit down,” he said from behind the large executive desk.

“Dr. Hill, this is Sameen Shaw,” Root said and waited to see if the light bulb went off.

He smiled cordially. “Do I know you?” he asked, because something was coming through.

“You should remember her. You fired her before she finished her residency at Mercy Hospital,” Root said, and her tone still didn’t make Shaw think there was any need for concern.

“Sa-meen… Shaw,” he said with too many syllables. “Oh, yes! Such a waste. You were brilliant, Sameen,” he said and the next thing everyone knew … all hell broke loose.

Along with that five foot eight frame of Root’s, came a long arm extension and her hand was pulling Spencer up by his expensive suit jacket and pulling him across the desk, hurting more than one sensitive body part.

“She…is… _still_ …brilliant,” Root growled and Sameen stood up now. She was supposed to put her hand on Root’s and gently pull her off the man, but something stopped her. “You fired her because she didn’t measure up to you asinine standard of bedside manner. She was the brightest resident in your program. She saved more patients than the others combined, and yet, you saw fit to release her,” Root shouted at him and Sameen saw his lips quiver.

“She’s very upset,” Sameen said to him, smiling.

“Ms. Groves, you must understand. We had a very elite program. Not everyone was cut out…,” but he was cut off when Root grabbed him tighter.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Sameen said because he kept getting it wrong.

“Tell her how sorry you are or I will make you the sorriest man alive,” Root threatened him. She let go of him with such force, he fell back into his leather chair. She slowly walked around the side of the desk, and sat on the edge of it, looking down at him.

His weren’t the only eyes on Root.

Shaw was looking at how fierce her girlfriend appeared. She had seen tough women before, but there was smoothness to Root that rarely came with such aggressive behavior.

“She was eating a snack while she told a family their loved one died!” he tried and Root bent down.

“Wrong answer,” she said and went to her phone.  It turned out; Root wasn’t the only one upset with this man. While she was hell bent of evening the score, the machine did a little digging. “Do you know what this is?” Root said, showing him her phone.

He shook his head, trying to get his hand back under his desk to hit the alarm button.

“It’s your mistress,” Root smiled and now Shaw looked at him.

“You? Have a _mistress_?” she asked because he was not the type that looked like he could attract lovers.

“How did you get that?” he asked of the picture of the two of them in bed.

“I’m sending it to the newspapers,” Root said and he yelled his compliance.

“Ms. Shaw, I am sorry that I fired you. You were the brightest of the group and I regretted doing it as soon as I did,” he said and there was definitely a layer of truth in there somewhere.

Shaw hardly heard him. She was used to people like him … the authority figures that screwed you over because of some flaw. Shaw was used to not measuring up to the higher ups. What she was not used to was someone hell bent on making someone pay for screwing her over. She certainly was not used to someone trying to make up for life’s trespasses. No one had ever done that for her.

Except Root.

Azar tried, but Root succeeded.

Sameen looked at Root; her arms crossed and her long legs interlocked as she sat there. Her head bobbed just the slightest as she smirked. “I could strangle you with my bare hands,” Root leaned over and said.

“God, you’re hot,” Shaw said, momentarily distracting Root. The doctor took that second to press the alarm button.

“Thanks,” Root said sincerely.

“No, like _really_ … hot,” Sameen said because she had never been so turned on by Root…in public.

“Hold that thought,” Root said as she looked down at the man.

“It’s too late, Ms. Groves,” he announced. “I have alerted my security.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” Shaw whispered from behind his chair. She had walked over there to get a better view of Root.

“Oh, Spencer,” Root said, pulling up his tie and yanking it closer. “You just fell below my standard for decent human beings.” With that, Root took her phone and showed him how quickly she was sending his picture to the papers.

Just then, as he predicted, a security guard walked through the door, assuring the doctor’s secretary he had this under control.

“Officer, take this crazy woman into custody,” he demanded. “Let me tell you, Ms. Groves the real reason I let your friend go,” he spat. “She refused to kiss my ass. And I’m the guy whose ass you kiss if you want to get anywhere.”

BINGO!

Root had her confession.

“Is that so!” she asked and couldn’t have been more satisfied.  “Sameen?” Root said.

“Oh, it’s true. I never touched him,” she smiled.

“I hope you brought duct tape,” Root said to the security guard, whose presence did not surprise her.

“What is the meaning of this?” the doctor demanded.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Shaw said, and grabbed him as John approached.

The sound of tape ripping loudly could be heard, as the man was muzzled and carefully taped in position.

Then, the socialite, her bodyguard, and the hospital security guard, walked out and smiled to the receptionist.

“Dr. Hill said to send his next visitors right in,” Root instructed as she waved goodbye.

“You can go in,” the secretary said to the group of residents who reported to Dr. Hill every day at this time.

As the group of fifteen men and women walked in, they saw Dr. Hill, bent over his desk and taped in position, with his pants down. And there on his bare buttocks was the sign: _KISS HERE._

The sound of cell phone cameras going off was the only noise in the room.

* * *

“Nice one, Reese,” Shaw said as they went downstairs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reese said, stuffing his faux security jacket and hat in a trash can as they walked outside.

The women watched as he walked back to his car as if he didn’t even know them.

“You were…,” Shaw said, as Root took her arm. “Seriously, like ferocious up there.”

Root stopped and pulled Sameen back to look at her. “I will always be ferocious when it comes to you,” she said before leaning down to kiss Shaw hard on the lips.

So hard, that Sameen had to put her finger to her lips to touch the heat. “I’m glad you didn’t do anything that would get us arrested,” Shaw said as they slowly walked to the car.

Root looked down at her phone. The message read ‘ _Done_ ’.

“Oh, I think the check I left on Doctor Hill’s desk will show I was simply there to make a donation,” Root smiled.

In the short time it took for Sameen to get the car, circle it three times to make sure there weren’t any additional scratches, the machine had seen to ‘fixing’ the video feeds at the hospital.

“Thinks I don’t know my own car,” Shaw huffed as she got back in, staring at the attendant.

“Tell me again, how hot I was?” Root said.

“You were so hot, Root. I was afraid if you tried to strangle him, I’d have to drive this baby every weekend to visit you in prison,” Shaw teased.

“Oh, so you want to be the visitor now? I think we can arrange that,” Root smiled, because there was a cell with their names on it back at the Penthouse.


	74. Valiant Efforts

Instead of going back to the office, Shaw drove the couple to the Penthouse. She stopped the car and went around to the passenger side and opened the door for Root. It wasn’t until they went into the private elevator did Shaw’s gratitude express itself. As soon as the door closed, she turned and gently, but quickly, pushed Root against the elevator wall, her hands holding onto Root’s hips.

The thoughts of how protective Root had been played over and over in Shaw’s mind, the whole car ride there. Gone were days of protesting that she did the protecting, not Root. Instead, a warm feeling emanated from inside her. Sameen wasn’t quite sure how to express what she was feeling, so she grabbed Root’s face with both hands and opened her mouth. She slowly encased Root’s bottom lip and played there, tantalizing Root and sending shivers down her spine. Finally, as Root’s eyes dilated, Shaw closed in on her mouth, pressing her own body up against the taller woman and pushing her leg in where it mattered most. “God, you are so … _hot_ ,” Shaw said again.

The elevator door slid open as the couple stayed entwined, but managed to move together to the apartment entryway. Root didn’t plan on sending Shaw over the edge with her next declaration, but that’s what she did.  
Root was merely speaking from her heart.

“I would have _strangled_ him with my _own_ hands, but you made me consider other ways of making his punishment worse,” Root said as Shaw ran her hands up under Root’s blouse.

“I have never needed anyone as badly as I need you, Root,” Shaw said and she meant physically and emotionally.

Root tore at Sameen’s top and couldn’t wait for the comfort of their bedroom. She pushed Sameen toward the couch, but instead of lying down, she bent Shaw backwards over the end. This was usually the time that Sameen fought like a turtle on its back to get upright and push Root beneath her in their power struggle foreplay.

But not today.

Today, Shaw didn’t want to push back, but instead give in… heart and soul… to what Root wanted to do.

And what Root wanted to do was exquisite, albeit assertive, foreplay.

She may have chosen a more conventional way to repay the bastard who fired Sameen, but she had plenty of protectiveness still coursing through her veins. That desire was making her rip Sameen’s clothes off in rapid fashion so that the woman lay bare and ready for her tender touch. Root’s hands grabbed without hurting, but she was demonstrating that Sameen was her woman and no one was going to get away with hurting her. She pulled Sameen up quickly, only to whisper that she would always protect her.

Then, she allowed Sameen to fall backwards slowly as her tongue laid claim to what was hers.

Root never heard Sameen let out louder cries of reaching those explosive peaks.

Shaw was so breathless; she couldn’t do anything, but curl up into a ball on the couch as Root curled behind her.

“You…(heavy breathing)… are… (gasps)… so…(deep breaths),” Shaw gasped, but needed oxygen to think.

“Hot?” Root guessed like it was fill in the blank. “Talented? Skillful?”

“Perfect,” Shaw said, and turned to look up into Root’s eyes.

The woman who felt she never had anyone in her corner uttered that word to the woman who felt no one ever understood her. Root leaned down and kissed Sameen gently, and it took Shaw a second to realize the wet drops on her cheek were Root’s tears.

“Hey, hey,” Sameen said, gently and turned so she could face her lover. She pushed Root’s hair off her face and stroked her cheek. Root grabbed Sameen’s hand and kissed the palm of it, forcing a smile to return to her own face. Sameen wiped away the escaped tears with her thumb. This was the type of emotional reaction that worried Shaw. She wasn’t sure if these were tears of pain, sorrow, or happy.

She decided to err on the side of disappointment.

“It’s okay,” she assured Root. “Did… you want to dress up?” she guessed incorrectly, but sweetly. “I can be the guard or the visitor…,” Shaw said hastily, thinking Root needed the fantasy to make it exciting.

Shaw couldn’t have been more wrong. And her willingness to play only brought more tears.

“You are… (voice cracking)… the most wonderful… (hard swallow)… person I know,” Root finally said and pulled Sameen in to hug closer.

Of course, this declaration of love didn’t answer Sameen’s question and she was left to ask; “Do you want me to be that trapeze artist?”

Root pulled her in tighter. “I want you to be you,” Root smiled, the tears subsiding because her eyes were smiling.

“Oh, good,” Shaw said, relieved that was settled.

* * *

The couple stayed cuddled together until the sun was peering through the tall buildings outside their window as it set. The sound of Isabelle’s singing in the kitchen woke them up. Shaw opened her eyes to see Bear sitting there, holding a fluffy bathrobe in his mouth. Suddenly feeling naked, which they both were, Shaw grabbed the robe. “Do you mind?” she asked the dog, who hadn’t moved. What did he care if they took off their coverings? “Who told you to do this?” Shaw questioned as Root stirred behind her. Shaw looked around to make sure one of their friends wasn’t standing there. Bear ignored Shaw’s questions and finally retrieved a second bathrobe. Shaw took it for Root and the dog let out a long sigh. “You think you’re overworked, don’t you?” Shaw asked and the dog barked loudly to confirm that he did. He began yelping that Sameen would never bring him a blanket if he was cold.

Then… the most _amazing_ thing happened.

Sameen answered him back … correctly! “Why would I think you need a blanket with that mound of fur you have all over you? “

‘I shed, you know,’ Bear argued in his defense.

“You’re telling me something I don’t know?” Shaw argued back and Root sat there watching the exchange. “I have hair in my cereal, for God’s sake. Your damn fur is all over every pair of black pants I own. And I own a lot of black pants!”

Bear looked over at Root who could only shrug her shoulders and agree. He was losing the argument. There was only one thing left to do.

He lunged at Sameen and knocked her back on the couch. “Get him off, get him off!” she yelled as the large dog lay across her chest and pressed down. “I will flip you and pin you and ….you’ll be sorry,” she warned, but he had a secret weapon. He started to lick her face, which kept her busy screaming without opening her mouth.

Root was so taken with the fact that Sameen understood him. “Bear, stop, you won,” she said, because from the looks of things, he did. He got off immediately and walked away, but turned to give Shaw a look that was pure victory.

“He did not…,” she spat, “…he got dog hair in my mouth!”

“Come on,” Root said, pulling Sameen up and pulling her along. “You realize what happened, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, I know,” Sameen said unhappily. “You told him he won. HE DID NOT WIN!" Shaw bellowed, wiping her face on the fluffy white sleeve.

“Of course he didn’t,” Root said, smoothing her wounded partner. “But you understood him,” Root said, stopping on the landing to make sure Shaw got that.

“What?” she asked because her mind was still on the dog winning.

“You understood what he said…perfectly,” Root said, proud of her girlfriend.

Sameen wasn’t sure she shared that same feeling. “I did? That means he understands me. YOU DIDN’T WIN,” she yelled down, missing the point.

The dog whined and Sameen swore he said; “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Her head shot up to look at Root.

“He’s just jealous,” Root replied. “Now, let’s get all that hair off you.”

“Fine,” Shaw said and started to note where it was. “It’s here, and on my face, and there….,” she said, only enticing Root more.

“Well, I guess we better just get you in the shower before we eat,” Root smiled slowly.

“Yes, I need a shower after that …. Oooh,” Shaw said, catching on.

Minutes later, as Root lathered up Sameen’s long locks and massaged her scalp, she finally felt calmer. “Maybe next time we do play time, I could be a dog catcher,” Sameen said, thinking how she would lock up Bear.

“Your fantasies need a little work,” Root teased and promised she’d come up with some ideas to help, but was pretty certain a lion’s costume was in her future.

* * *

The headlines the next morning read that Dr. Spencer Hill had been terminated from Manhattan General Hospital. The newspapers showed a disgraced Hill leaving the hospital as he refused to answer questions about his affair. Social media showed quite a different side of Dr. Hill; his posterior, as his picture of getting behind in his work went viral.

“They’ll need someone to head up the committee to find a new Chief of Staff,” Root said the next morning, as she put the paper down. “I could recommend you.”

It took a second for Sameen to stop chewing and realize that she was talking to her. “Me?” she said, mouth full of fluffy pancakes.

“Yes, you’re more than qualified to pick the right person,” Root affirmed.

“I already have a job,” Sameen smiled, and leaned over to kiss the woman who had such undying faith in her.

“But you were a really good doctor,” Root said, remembering back.

“That reminds me; you haven’t paid me,” Shaw teased.

“Oh, we’ll have to remedy that tonight,” Root said smiling and kissing her back.

Isabelle continued her singing and acting like she wasn’t listening, but her face was smiling as she heard her favorite couple exchange loving quips over breakfast.

* * *

When they were done, they dressed for work. Bear was waiting at the elevator when they got there. “Early meeting?” Shaw teased, but the dog answered; ‘Yes’, … and Shaw swore she heard him.

“You know,” she said getting on the elevator; “When I tell them I speak dog, they’re going to make the straight jacket tighter.”

“Straight jacket?” Root mused and wondered if she could use that in her future imaginations.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“What look?” Root asked innocently.

“That one,” Shaw pointed. “The one when your mind is a million miles away planning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Root laughed and gave herself up. __

* * *

The couple arrived at work, Bear complaining that they had made him late. “He takes his work a little too seriously, don’t you think?” Shaw asked Root.

‘I heard that!’ Bear barked loudly.

“This is not a good sign,” Shaw said as Root kissed her goodbye before she exited the elevator.

“What? What’s not a good sign? Are you okay?” Janine asked, appearing right alongside Shaw.

“Where did you come from?” Shaw had to ask because she swore no one was around.

“Originally, New Jersey,” Janine answered truthfully. “What’s not a good sign?” she asked again, following Shaw into her cubicle.

Shaw hesitated whether or not to share the news. “Okay, I’m going to tell you, but I don’t want you to make a fuss or anything,” she began and Janine completely misunderstood.

“OH MY GOD!” she said, thinking the news was more personal and romantic.

“What? What – _Oh my God_?” Shaw asked and Janine wondered if perhaps she got it wrong.

“Oh…my…God…you have news,” the assistant said, slowly.

“I can’t take any time away from here,” Shaw decided. “It takes too long to get acclimated to crazy again.”

“What were you going to say?” Janine asked, sitting down even though Shaw was hoping she would leave.

Shaw took a deep breath. “I…think…I understand … _the_ dog.” There, she said it. She admitted that her sanity had just dipped below the line and she was hearing the dog talk.

“Bear?” Janine asked as if there was more than one dog Shaw might understand.

“Yes, Bear. I’m not Doctor Doolittle. Just him,” Shaw explained.

“Oh. Good,” Janine said with the enthusiasm as someone finding out you speak French. “Nice,” So disappointed with the secret was she; the assistant got up and walked out.

Annoying the woman who seconds ago, wished she would leave.

“Oh, _good_? _Nice_?” Shaw asked, now following Janine into her cubicle. “What does that mean? I tell you I think I understand a dog when he barks and you say nice?”

“I’m happy for you?” Janine responded, guessing at the correct response.

Sameen threw both hands up in the air and left. “I should have known the insane would be sane here,” she grumbled as she sat down.

* * *

“Hey, Shaw,” Fusco said, but in a low voice as he looked up and down the hallway.

“Oh, like I need _this_ ,” Shaw said of her friend’s odd behavior.

“Listen, I’m not here,” Fusco said, sitting down and scrunching low in the seat.

“I gotta remove that extra chair,” Shaw said, not picking up on how serious he was.

“Suppose you knew someone,” Fusco whispered.

“I know a lot of people and with the exception of one, none of them are sane,” Shaw said, still on her complaining page.

“Funny,” Fusco remarked. “Suppose you knew someone who was being bothered by someone and they didn’t want you to do anything about it.”

“I would go to breakfast,” Shaw said, getting up to do just that. It was, after all, almost nine.”

Fusco reached up and grabbed her, pulling her by the arm to sit down.

“Are you sure you want to die today? Because you don’t look like you have the right suit for dying today,” Sameen said roughly.

Fusco forgot the golden rule when seeking his friend’s help; you could not give her the long version. “Sit!” he said in a tone that made Sameen wonder how she would tell Lee she was the one who injured his father. “Someone is threatening your therapist!”

Shaw stopped pulling away and sat there. Now, the problem for Fusco in giving Sameen the short version was that her reaction time would be even shorter.

“Who the fuck is doing that?” she said, jumping up from her chair and ready to get them. “Do you have a name? Is it someone here?” she all but yelled and Fusco had to reapply pressure and pull her back down.

“She will kill me if I tell you,” Fusco explained. “She doesn’t want me to do anything. So, I figured …someone else …maybe could do something.”

Iris had been receiving unwanted phone calls for the past two weeks. When Fusco noticed her looking but not answering the calls, he grew suspicious. But when he asked about it, Iris told him not to worry. She didn’t mention the several emails she was getting every day because of confidentiality rules. She thought she could talk the individual through the obsession the former patient seemed to be having. Iris promised to tell Lionel if she felt she needed intervention.

“Do you have a name or do I have to find it out on my own?” Shaw asked, unsure of how much Lionel could do.

“Look, Shaw, if I involve you it could hurt your relationship with Iris. You got to think about that before you say yes,” Fusco warned.

“I don’t _have_ _to_ _think_ about this. Someone is bothering her and we’re going to fix it,” Shaw said.

“She can’t know,” Fusco said, wondering if this was a good idea.

“Fusco, of course she’s going to know. You can’t keep a secret,” Shaw said, and he knew she was right.

“All I know is that the person’s been calling her and sending flowers. She gets them every day,” Fusco said, picking his head up to make sure the therapist wasn’t coming.

“Great, her stalker is more romantic than you, Fusco. We got to fix that,” Shaw teased because there was never a time not to rib her friend.

“I don’t even know if it’s a guy, but whoever it is was a patient of hers,” Fusco said, telling all he knew.

“Don’t worry, Fusco,” Shaw said, patting his knee. “We got this.”

With that, Shaw was up and out of her seat. “Where are you going?” Fusco said, feeling like he just released the bull in the china shop.

“Breakfast, Fusco. You don’t expect me to kick ass on an empty stomach,” Shaw said, smiling confidently.

“I was hoping you could just _convince_ them to stop, not necessarily kick anyone’s ass,” Fusco pointed out.

“I can be very _convincing_ , Fusco,” Shaw smiled. “Pick a body part of your choosing.”

* * *

Lionel decided to follow Sameen out of her office as she walked to the employee cafeteria. “You have anything to do with this?” he asked when he picked up the newspaper with the firing of the doctor on the front page.

“What makes you think I had anything to do with that?” Shaw asked.

“Because it says that the CEO of BEAR was visiting with him yesterday,” Fusco said and got the inside story because the police were called and found the man the way the trio left him.

“We may have done something to… _expose_ … him,” Shaw said, laughing at her own joke.


	75. What Are Friends For?

Fusco knew the best way to talk to his friend about anything was over food. So, he waited while she ordered a platter that the waiter erroneously assumed was for both of them.

“Just egg whites,” Lionel said and Shaw threw her head back in the opposite chair like she was shot.

“Egg whites? What are you kidding me?” she bellowed.

“Keep it down, Shaw. I ordered egg whites; not something I should be embarrassed about,” Lionel countered.

“No, Lionel. You _should_ be embarrassed,” Shaw corrected him. “If you go vegan, I’m shooting you.”

“If I go vegan, I’ll be _begging_ you to put me out of my misery,” her good friend agreed.

“Okay then, you’re not totally lost,” Shaw surmised. “I don’t want to have to show up at your house with a pound of bacon for the intervention, Lionel.”

“Who are you kidding? You’d eat the bacon before you got to my place,” Lionel responded.

“Okay, maybe, but I would breathe on you,” Shaw said, looking around for her food.

“You did want those eggs cooked, right? Geesh, you have no patience,” Fusco said, secretly wishing they’d hurry up with the food that would pacify Shaw.

“Okay, so speaking of _patients_ ,” Shaw laughed, “…see what I did there?” she couldn’t help but point out her cleverness.

“Listen, keep it down, please,” Lionel begged. “Ordinarily, I’d check into this kind of thing and maybe …,” he stopped to use air quotes, “…’ _run into the person_ ’.” He stopped talking and looked around.

“Ugh! Really? Air quotes? I don’t get air quotes. Why do people think their ‘fingers’ (and she used air quotes around that word) tell me something your voice does not tell me? It’s the stupidest thing humans have come up with,” she complained. “Next to egg whites.”

Lionel was going to grumble that they were off track again, when the waiter brought the food over. “Now, you see, Lionel,” Shaw said as she poured hot sauce on the scrambled eggs, “ _This_ … is a breakfast.”

“Don’t you eat at home with your fancy chef?” he asked, looking down at how pathetic two scrambled egg whites looked on a plate with no bacon.

“Of course I do. I would give that woman a kidney if she needed it,” Shaw said, her mouth full of buttered toast.

“It’s more likely you’re gonna need one of her organs. Do you even go for checkups?” Lionel just had to ask.

Finally, Fusco asked a question that Shaw didn’t have a sarcastic remark for. It gave her pause, and worse, he knew it. He put that card in his pocket for later. “Oh, I see,” he said, letting her know he knew that she didn’t. “Anyway, can we get off you for a second,” he said, not wanting to lose his ‘card’.

“So, who do you think this nut is?” Shaw asked, as Lionel stared at her food.

“Do you think maybe you should at least cut the sausage in half before you shove it in your mouth? Never mind,” he shook his head to get back on track. “I noticed her phone ringing at night and she would look at it, but she never took the call. Then, one day, I was up here to take her to lunch and her office had a bunch of flowers in the waiting area. So, I asked Stella about them,” he explained.

“Who’s Stella?” Shaw asked, and Lionel couldn’t help but look longingly at the long piece of bacon Shaw held to her mouth.

“What?” he asked, missing that particular food the most. “Oh, she’s Iris’ administrative assistant.”

“Really?” Shaw said, because as many times as she had been there and annoyed the woman, she didn’t know her name.

“So, it turns out that they’ve all been from the same person,” Lionel shared what little info he had.

“So, Li-o-nel,” Sameen said, elongating his name, “…how do we know this isn’t a secret admirer and not a nut job?” It was a logical question; one that any investigator would ask. If… they weren’t sitting across from the devoted lover of the woman in question. “Oh,” Shaw said, when she realized her words were poorly chosen. “I mean…”

“You think she’s breaking up with me?” Fusco asked loudly, forgetting the rule about keeping their voices down.

“What? No! No,” Shaw said, and put her head down, hoping he’d lower his voice and come back to the conversation.

“Then, what are you saying?” he asked and Shaw remembered how sensitive her friend could be.

“Geez, Lionel, stop being so sensitive,” Shaw said what she thought. “Look, Iris would not sneak around behind your back. She’s better than that. And she knows you deserve better than … than that,” Sameen said, hoping the words that flew off her lips made sense. She was really thinking it over in her head now and she decided Iris wouldn’t do something as low as that. “Besides, she knows I’d kill her.”

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” Fusco reminded Sameen.

“Well, yeah,” Shaw said, eating more of her killer breakfast.

“I think this was a bad idea,” the detective admitted.

“Why? Come on, you know she won’t be able to tell you because of that privacy stuff. So, let’s ' _quietly_ '…,” and she emphasized the word with air quotes, “…go find out what’s going on.”

“You used air quotes,” Lionel pointed out.

“What? No, I didn’t,” Shaw argued because it was an unconscious move.

“Yes, you did,” Lionel countered and now she seemed to remember doing it.

“You see?” she barked. “You guys are… are… infiltrating my head. I’ll need deprogramming!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Shaw,” Lionel laughed and she thought he was being reassuring. “Nothing can get through that head of yours.”

“Why did you come to me?” Shaw asked, holding it over his head.

“Okay, okay,” Lionel gave in because he knew how exhausting it could be to prove Shaw wrong, especially when she was wrong. The two friends got up and left the dining room.

Once he felt she was calmer, Lionel reaffirmed that he didn’t want her to actually do anything until she knew who the person was and they talked. “No kicking ass, promise me,” he begged.

“Sure,” Shaw agreed too readily.

“Promise,” Lionel demanded.

“What are we, five?” Shaw complained.

“On your good days, maybe,” Fusco said and jumped back before she could hit him, proving his point.

“Promise,” he persisted.

“Fine!” she rolled her eyes, giving in. “I promise.”

* * *

Shaw knew Lionel would not be able to keep this to himself. It was confirmed after they ran into John and he blurted out that NOTHING was going on. “Nothing-at-all,” Lionel said, so conspicuously that it actually caught John’s attention.

“Is he okay?” he asked, when Lionel ran to catch the elevator.

“If by _okay...,"_ and she _caught her fingers_ about to betray her, so she shoved them in her pocket.  ".....you mean, is he eating healthy and suffering as a result, then yes, he’s okay,” Shaw said. “Did you see this?” Shaw said, showing John the newspaper.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the tall man said, not even looking at the paper as he left.

“Not a single person here is normal,” Shaw declared. “Not one!” But then, that made her think about the one person who was perfect. “I need to see Root,” she decided.

* * *

Her head full of thoughts and her stomach full of food; Shaw was fueled for action. She told Root the whole story in much more dramatic fashion than actually happened, but Root didn’t mind a bit.

“I had to watch him eat _egg whites_ ,” Shaw shared with an expression of horror.

“Oh, gosh!” Root said sympathetically. “But get back to what he wants you to do?” Root was concerned about that part.

“Someone is sending the doc flowers and calling her at night. So, because of that confidentiality thing shrinks all have, she can’t give Lionel a name. Well, she can, but I guess she thinks maybe if she talks to them,” Shaw said, flopping down on the couch.

“Don’t you think she’s already tried to speak to them?” the genius asked.

It made sense that Iris would have tried to address it right off the bat. “That makes sense. God, you’re smart,” Shaw said, playing with a long curl of Root’s hair. She loved that stating something as obvious as Root’s intelligence actually made her blush.

“Thanks,” Root said, cheeks reddened now. “What do you want to do?”

Shaw thought it over. “Well, if this person has issues, I don’t want to make it worse. But, if it’s a regular old stalker, I think we could talk to him. Or her.”

“Dr. Campbell won’t like us interfering,” Root pointed out astutely.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, because she knew it, too. “But therapists are usually nice people and they are constantly giving people the benefit of the doubt. So, I think we should at least check into this.”

“Then, we shall,” Root affirmed.

“I don’t think Lionel wants us to do anything… invasive,” Shaw explained.

“You mean like break into her phone and see the number, trace the number to its location and pay them a visit?” Root outlined perfectly what would work.

“Yeah, none of that,” Shaw said. “I think we might have to do this the old fashion way.”

“Oohh,” Root said, excited to be working with the love of her life. “Good old fashion detective work!”

* * *

The two devised a simple plan of finding out from the florist who was sending the flowers. Of course, it would take a little persuasion, but that happened to be the couple’s forte.

“First, we’ll ask the delivery guy where the florist is. Then, we’ll talk to the store owner,” Shaw said.

Of course, the simplicity of the plan didn’t mean that Root wasn’t off on wild imagining. “You know what I always thought would be a useful tool of persuasion?” she asked, having given this thought.

“Egg whites? Because I just had to look at them and found them pretty torturous,” Shaw shared.

“An iron,” Root answered her own question.

Sameen’s head turned quickly to look at the woman who just uttered those words. “Like a tire iron?” Shaw asked.

“No, silly. An ironing iron. I always thought if I had to extract information from someone, it would be a pretty convincing tool,” Root said and she was smiling so sweetly, that it took Shaw a second to take in the idea of what she said.

“Oh, like you’d iron their clothes to make them talk?” Shaw tried, unable to believe Root would really use an iron for anything else.

“No,” Root said firmly. “Let’s say you’re someone I want to get information from, right?” she proposed and stood up. “I would put you in a chair, and…,” Root said looking around and grabbing the remote to the office TV. Then, she knelt down in front of Shaw and ripped open her jacket. Shaw was surprised, but intrigued what her nonmilitary girlfriend was up to.  Kneeling in front of Shaw now, she raised the remote. “See?” she asked, indicating how easy it would be.

“I would disarm you before you got to my top button,” Sameen assured her; her eyebrow raised.

“Oh,” Root said, seeing her point. “I would zip tie your hands,” she said after thinking about it.

“My hands would be around your neck,” Shaw countered, smiling.

“Oh,” Root said, because Sameen made good arguments. “Got it! First, I would taze you from behind, drag you to the chair, lift you up, and then zip tie your hands,” Root smiled, shrugging her shoulders at how easy it would be. “Then, I would use the iron to get you to talk.” Her expression was as innocent as could be.

“So, I’m tazed, zip tied and now you’re going to use an iron on me?” Shaw asked, to be sure she had it right. Root nodded yes; her expression clearly indicating she thought it was a foolproof plan. “But suppose,” Shaw said slowly, “I told you I sorta _enjoy_ this sort of thing.” Sameen had actually been in situations where she had to use the element of surprise to throw her captors off their guard.

But _this_ captor was not easily thrown.

Root leaned back in, pushing Sameen back and said: “I would say; "I am so glad you said that. I do, too!" The would-be extractor was all smiles when she said that; a fact that Sameen pointed out might take away from the severity of her threat. “I don’t think so,” Root said.

“Where… did you? When did you even come up with that?” Shaw asked, surprised the idea flowed so easily.

“A girl’s got to be prepared,” Root said. “Camp Fire Girl motto.”

“I thought it was _Be Ever Alert and Ready?_ ” Shaw said of the company’s acronym.

“Close enough,” Root laughed and put her arms around Sameen’s waist and hugged her.

“Remind me never keep any secrets from you,” Shaw said, gently taking the remote away and tossing it down the length of the couch.

* * *

By afternoon, their plan was in place. Sameen didn’t want to miss the delivery guy, so she enlisted the woman who never missed anything that went on at that company. As Sameen expected, Janine was only too happy to help.

“How should I tell you? Should I call you? Or a signal? Or a code word? Or I could just throw something into your office and you’ll know he’s by the elevator!” the assistant asked.

The list was too long for Shaw to remember, so she agreed the woman could casually throw something over the cubicle wall to alert her. She should have been more specific. First, Janine tried rolled up pieces of paper, but they fell behind where Shaw was sitting at her desk. Then, the assistant tried making bird sounds, but Sameen thought it was bring your pet to work day. Finally, the woman stood on a chair and clutched the top of the partition and yelled; “SHAW!” in a hushed, but definite tone.

“GEEZUS!” Shaw responded and turned to see the woman’s head just peeking over the top.

“He’s going to the elevator. I told Ms. Groves,” the assistant said and jerked her head in the direction she wanted Sameen to move.

“What was I thinking?” Shaw asked herself as she made her way to the elevator. There, as her astute assistant said he would be, was the floral delivery man, waiting for the elevator. And when the doors opened, there was Root smiling and waiting.

And holding the remote.

“Oh, I really hope we don’t need to use that,” Shaw said as she got in the enclosed compartment.

“Delivering flowers?” Root asked, taking the lead.

“Yes,” he said and smiled when he recognized the famous CEO. “Yes, to Dr. Campbell.”

“Were they mine? Because I asked my secretary to send some for her birthday,” Root fabricated.

“I don’t know who they were from, but they were pretty,” he said, gushing at the celebrity.

“Where do you work?” Shaw asked, trying to get him to take his eyes off her girlfriend.

“Emilio’s,” he answered, but was still looking at Root and smiling.

“Hey!” Sameen said, this time pulling on his shirt to look at her. “What kind of place is Emilio’s? Expensive?”

“Yes, but we have nice arrangements that someone like you could afford, too,” he answered and Shaw lunged for him, but Root gently pulled at Sameen’s arm as she stuck her face up into his.

“He’s been helpful, no?” she smiled to Sameen who was more annoyed at the attention he paid Root than his wisecracks. “Stay the course, Sameen,” Root smiled because there was no use in hurting their first lead when they had further to go.

Root was right. Sameen stepped back and let the frightened delivery man leave the elevator.

She tugged on the bottom of her leather jacket, yelling; “I got a remote here. Don’t make me use it.”

“That’s my girl,” Root said, taking Shaw by the arm and walking outside.


	76. Xtraordinary Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not the best chapter I've written. Plot line thin at best, but it was all in an effort to show what a good team Root and Shaw are becoming outside of BEAR.

The two women entered the floral shop on 14th Street on the West Side. The owner smiled when he recognized Root, but quickly cast a frown at the damaged car parked outside his shop. “Ms. Groves!” he all by squealed and rushed to greet her.

“Emilio?” Root guessed in a charming voice.

“Hello!” the man greeted the couple. “Welcome, welcome.”

“You need to do something about those pigeons,” Shaw complained when she saw them near her car parked outside.

The shop owner laughed because the entire island of Manhattan wished they could do something about them. “She is funny,” he said and drew a dead stare that indicated Shaw saw nothing funny about birds near her car. “What can I do for you?” he asked, going back to the friendlier of the two women.

Root explained that she wanted to send some flowers and asked what was he would recommend, all the time building rapport. The woman who thought rapport building included grabbing someone by the lapel, huffed and puffed while the process took place. When Root finally felt she had him wrapped around her very expensive finger, she segued into asking if he could possible divulge who the sender of the flowers were to her staff member. He begged off, explaining that he could not break a customer’s confidence and went on and on about how his reputation would be at stake.

Shaw stared and wondered how he could possibly refuse her girlfriend when she was using the sweetest voice.

“Okay, that’s it,” Shaw snarled when she thought Root wasn’t getting anywhere. The proprietor jumped behind Root, putting her between him and the woman who was coming for him.

“Not to worry, Sameen,” Root winked.

“What… are you doing?” Shaw asked, staring at her.

“It’s okay,” Root said and attempted to shut her right eye again; her whole head moving.

“We really have to work on your wink,” Shaw suggested and shook her head.

Root fussed over the man again, placing her order and thanking him. Then, she took her able bodied girlfriend by the arm and walked outside.

* * *

“I will shoot the pigeon that goes near that car,” Shaw said, rushing over and scaring the flock away. Then, she held the door opened for Root and got in the driver’s side. “Okay, so now what do we do?”

“We wait,” Root said, taking out her phone.

“He was of no help,” Shaw complained.

“Remember I told you that Genrika invented an app that allows you to sync your phone with another phone?” Root said calmly.

“That kid invented an app? We’ll all be working for her someday,” Shaw said because, truthfully, she didn’t remember that the young girl had in fact created the software.

“We’ll be retired by the time she runs Bear,” Root smiled and looked at her phone.

“Oh good,” Shaw said. “Because sometimes that kid freaks me out.”

“There we are,” Root said as the call came into the shop and ordered flowers to be delivered to Iris Campbell. She put the phone on speaker so they could eavesdrop on the call.

* * *

“Just so you understand,” Emilio explained to his daily customer, “…they told my delivery man that they would not accept any more of your bouquets.”

“Oh, did they?” the customer said. “Perhaps it’s time to make a different kind of delivery,” he said and hung up.

“I got the number,” Root said, but when she traced it, it was a burner cell.

“Okay, that didn’t sound good,” Shaw said and looked back at the shop. “We tried it your way. Now, give me a second.” With that, Shaw was out of the car and walked toward the shop. She entered, smiled menacingly at the Emilio and explained that she was concerned about the woman receiving the deliveries. “If you don’t leave a credit card number for me to see, I’m going to get upset.”

“You look like the kind of woman who could break glass when she’s upset,” Emilio said, looking around at all the breakable vases in his shop.

“You got that right,” Shaw said and winked, the way you’re supposed to.

Within seconds, the shop owner left his screen visible with the information, as he stepped away. Shaw called Root in the car and gave her the Amex number on the card. Then, she saluted the man who was cowering behind some flowers, and left.

* * *

“Any luck?” she asked Root when she got back to the car.

“Why did he give you… ? Never mind,” Root said, knowing Shaw had her ways to make people talk. “You didn’t even need the remote,” she teased.

Seconds later, the card number came up belonging to a Jeffrey Sheffield. “Do you think this is someone at BEAR, who has seen Iris?” Root asked.

“She has _other_ patients?” Shaw asked, feigning surprise. “Does she have a private practice?”

“Not that I know of,” Root said and checked her personnel file on her phone.

“Do I have a file?” Shaw asked.

“Of course you do,” Root said and leaned over to hug her.

“What’s in it?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, your personal information, salary, health benefits, manager’s reviews. Things like that,” Root answered.

“Manager _reviews_?” Shaw asked.

“Something Harold came up with so that everything could be quantified. I never pay attention to them,” Root explained. “Now, there are at least ten men with that name in Manhattan. How are we going to find our mystery man?”

“What kind of reviews?” Shaw asked, her one track mind on herself.

“What? Oh, like if John or Harold reviewed your performance,” Root explained, her mind on solving the mystery.

“Harold? John? Let me see,” Shaw said, holding her hand out.

“You want to see them now? We’re trying to find out who called,” Root hesitated because she had never looked at Shaw’s file and worried now what might be in there.

“Yes, I do,” Shaw said, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

“Okay,” Root said slowly and accessed the file. “Now, remember, none of this…,” she said, as Shaw grabbed the phone to read it.

‘ _Miss Shaw’s interviewing techniques can be illuminating, if not harmonious_ ,’ Finch’s remarks included. ‘ _If she’s not calmer in her approach, she could easily be made by a ten year old_ ,’ Reese had remarked.

Of course, these were assessments made in the hiring process, before either man, especially Reese, came to know just how talented and skilled an employee Shaw was. Sameen handed the phone back to Root as she stared out the window.

“Now, you need to see this,” Root said, and handed back the phone after accessing her most recent assessments.

“You want me to read more of that crap?” Shaw asked, but Root insisted.

Both men had very different assessments after getting to know her. ‘ _Miss Shaw is a most valued member of our team_ ,’ Harold wrote. ‘ _Set a new standard for the entire Security Team_ ,’ Reese’s remarks included.

“They just needed to get to know you,” Root explained.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, happier with the positive assessments, but just as uncomfortable with them as she was the negative ones.

* * *

Root continued to play with the recording of the conversation. Tweaking the audio file gave her background noises which indicated the sound of horns that are used on boats.

“Great, so that narrows down his location to be near water,” Shaw pointed out. “Good thing we’re not on an island.”

“Patience,” Root said and played around some more. “That horn is coming from a ferry,” she deduced.

“Wait, does the Doc do any volunteer work?” Shaw wondered out loud. She reached for her phone and called Fusco. He told his friend that Iris worked at mental health clinic downtown on weekends sometimes. “We have to talk about whether she’s too good for you,” Shaw teased her friend.

“You’re not ….?” Fusco whispered into the phone.

“Kicking someone’s ass? No,” Shaw assured him and hung up. “Yet,” she added when the call was over.

Root scanned clinics located close enough to water and there it was; South Street Seaport Mental Health clinic. “The clinic is near Pier 11 ferry terminal,” Root shared.

“That little genius didn’t invent an app that could match a voice to the one we heard on the phone, did she?” Shaw asked, taking off into traffic.

Genrika hadn’t, but Root thought Sameen’s question was brilliant. “You are incredibly smart, do you know that?” Root stated as she did a voice analysis on the call and then extracted the reading so she could find a match.

“I can do _nerd_ ,” Shaw asserted.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling up outside the clinic. Not sure just who they were looking for, they decided that Root would say she heard wonderful things about the clinic and was interested in making a donation. “Money always talks,” Shaw lamented.

The receptionist was very friendly and recognized Root right away. She explained that the director would love to speak with Root, if she could wait a few minutes. The couple agreed and waited in the lobby. Well, Root waited; Shaw began walking around.  
Which you’re really not allowed to do.

“Fine! I got it!” Shaw yelled when the security guards returned her to the lobby. “I’ll give you anger issues,” she snapped back at the one who asked if she ever thought of having hers addressed.

Sameen sat next to Root and thought over the kind of person they were looking for. He was obviously obsessed with Iris. “I’ve been thinking,” Shaw said to Root. “Stalker types come in a variety. Our guy doesn’t seem harmful, but seems insistent. If he did any more than the flowers and calls, I think the doc would have told Fusco. So, I’m going with the narcissistic type. The guy who thinks no woman in their right mind would refuse him. A real asshole,” Shaw assessed.

Root was fascinated by how Shaw’s mind worked. She had medical training and, in spite of her refusing to believe it, Shaw had great insight into people. “You amaze me,” Root cooed.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, unsure why. “Is it the nerd thing?”

“That, and so much more,” Root said, smiling and leaning into Shaw’s shoulder.

“Look,” Shaw said, and picked up the clinic’s brochure. There, on the cover, was Doctor Jeffrey Sheffield, resident drug rehab expert. “We need a new game plan. Do you have any pepper?”

Root was busy asking why when Shaw grabbed her pocketbook and shoved her hand in, moving Root’s things around until she came up with one of those little packets. She opened it, and rubbed it near her eye.

“What are you doing?” Root asked.

The effects were immediate. “GEEZUS!” Shaw yelled in a muffled tone. Her eyes reddened and watered, which made her mascara run. Root stared at the quick transformation. “How do I look?” Shaw asked.

“Like hell,” Root noted.

“That’s what I was going for,” Shaw smiled. “Look, tell them we’re here for me,” she whispered. “Tell them I’m using and you want only the best.Tell them we need to see that guy.”

Root caught on immediately.

* * *

The director came out to greet them and invited them into her office. Root talked to the woman about a sizeable donation and said it was conditional on her girlfriend receiving help from the best; Dr. Sheffield. Within minutes, Shaw’s appointment was arranged and he would see her. They were led into Dr. Sheffield’s office after the director explained why they were there.

Root was a natural as she explained that she had found out her partner was using and was desperate for her to get help. He asked Shaw several questions about her supposed drug use and recommended a thirty-day in hospital stay to get her back on the road. Root squeezed Shaw’s hand to indicate that his voice registered as the same on the phone to the flower shop.

“Oh, no, we can’t do that,” Root explained. “I couldn’t be without her for a month. You see, Doc, I’m quite taken with her and couldn’t be away from her for that long.”

Root’s charm was completely disarming the man. When he said he thought he understood, Root argued politely that he couldn’t possible understand how this woman occupied her thoughts twenty-four seven. “It’s like I can’t get her out of my head,” Root shared.

“It’s kind of _annoying_ ,” Shaw said convincingly and he took the bait. He ranted that Shaw should appreciate how devoted her partner was and only wanted the best for her. “I need a cigarette,” Shaw complained and went outside to give Root time alone with the doctor.

“I think we have more in common than you think,” he said to Root who thanked him, but said she couldn’t agree. “I.. I can’t stand the thought of her with anyone else,” she said to him.

“I feel that way about someone,” he said and Root could tell he was actually proud of his condition. “And she works for you,” he said thinking this would impress Root.

“Really?” Root said, hoping he would divulge more. And he did. He explained to Root that he worked with a fellow therapist on weekends, who worked for BEAR. “I’ve been sending her flowers every day for two weeks to convince her we should be together,” he said proudly.

“Is she impressed?” Root asked.

“Not yet, but she will be. I think she’s playing hard to get,” he said in a low voice, and made Root shudder.

“Why would she do that?” Root asked and left off the part where she wanted to say; “ _You idiot!_ ”

“You know some women are just like that,” he said authoritatively. “But yours…,” he said, jerking his head to indicate outside where Shaw went, “….seems more _docile_.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Root said, shutting off her phone recorder and standing up. She walked to the door and smiled at Shaw.

“What is going on?” the man asked, confused by Root’s behavior.

“He’s our guy,” Root said to Shaw and raised her eyebrow. With that, she opened the door wide, allowing Shaw in, as she stepped outside.

“You set ‘em up, I knock ‘em down,” Shaw said as Root left and she closed the door behind her.

* * *

“It seems your partner does not want you to leave, so we’ll have to do your program on an outpatient basis,” the doctor said.

“Doc, I just want to say one thing,” Shaw said, walking over to the desk and leaning over it. The doctor leaned back in his chair. “I have a friend who you have been sending flowers to. She doesn’t want them. If you send them again, or contact her in anyway, I’m going to come back and handle this my way,” Shaw said and her voice was threatening.

“Is that a threat?” he asked.

“It’s a promise,” Shaw said; winking and smiling. “The only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now, is I made a promise. You’re a lucky man I’m a woman of my word.”

“This is … ridiculous,” he said, but she could hear his voice wavering.

“Yeah, no,” Shaw said, standing back up and walking to the door. “Oh, and I’m pretty sure Root is talking to your boss right now. You know, to get the help you need.”

With that, Shaw stepped outside in time to see just what she predicted. The director was marching down to Dr. Sheffield’s office. Root caught up with Shaw, fist bumping her.

Simultaneously, the two women whipped out their sunglasses, put them on and walked outside.

* * *

“Mission accomplished?” Shaw asked as she held the door open for Root.

“Yes,” Root said, thrilled at how well they worked together.

“I think we deserve to take the rest of the day off,” Shaw decided as she got in the driver’s seat.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Root said as Shaw took off in their new, damaged car.

“We can work on your winking,” Shaw suggested.


	77. You Can't Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

The next morning, Root was reflecting on the fact that they managed to help their friend yesterday without using the machine. She often spent her time alone thinking about the machine’s capabilities and where she could be most helpful. She also wondered if Azar did move to Connecticut, would the machine react?

Only Root could be thinking about an AI’s feelings and not think anything of it.

In the meantime, Shaw found an expert repairer and thought they might consider letting him fix her machine. “After all,” she said to Root, “… those marks give it character.” Sameen liked that they had something to remind them of the time the burst through a garage door to catch a killer. In her book, that was damn cool. She had texted Fusco the night before, telling him that the problem was taken care of. He was so nervous that he’d spill the beans, that he canceled his date with Iris.

Great detective; sucky secret keeper.

* * *

Root’s phone beeped and after reading the text, she announced they had to go.

“But…,” Shaw said, of her remaining breakfast, but Root reminded her that her second breakfast was only an hour away. Announcing this though, gave Isabelle pause and she looked at Sameen.

“Nud az gud,” Sameen assured the chef, shaking her head, mouth full of food, as she guiltily ran to catch up with Root.

“Don’t tell her I eat a second breakfast,” Shaw whispered. But it wasn’t Root who asked why not, but Bear. “Because she wants to think that I only eat her food. I mean, of course I have to eat during the day, but we don’t have to remind her of that,” she pointed out as they stepped into the elevator.

‘ _Okay_ ,’ Shaw distinctly heard. Looking straight up at the lit floor numbers display, she took a deep breath and asked, “I just answered him, didn’t I?”

Root answered yes, but Shaw was certain she also heard snickering. Pursing her lips, she just added it to the list of things that would not work in her defense if they ever committed her. “Hey, speaking of people who could put me away, I told Lionel not to say anything to the Doc.”

“Short version?” Root asked to be sure.

“Nope, that was all,” said the woman of few words.

The only time Sameen used more words than was necessary, was when she was nervous or intimidated. Two things that rarely happened.

Root wasn’t sure that anything Fusco handled would go smoothly. “I think Iris will appreciate our help.”

“Really?” Shaw asked, because she didn’t agree.

* * *

The couple drove to work; Sameen weaving in and out of traffic to get there.

“Oh, we’re here!” Root said, her voice even more chipper than usual.

“What?” Sameen asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Root said gleefully and Sameen just continued to stare straight ahead, straight faced. She didn’t like surprises.

As Root got out of the car, happy in anticipation of the surprise, Shaw started to list what things she would not like in that category. “You’re not changing the cafeteria or the menus, are you?” Sameen asked, coming around to Root’s side.

“Nope,” Root said, and kept smiling giddily.

“We’re not getting new t-shirts, are we? Because I didn’t wear the last one, so I’m not wearing this one,” she balked.

“Nope,” Root smiled.

Sameen had not run out of questions by the time they were in the elevator because there was an endless list of things that would upset her if changed. Although she was beginning to run on fumes. “You’re not adding more chairs to my cubicle, are you? Because I want the one that’s in there removed. People come in and sit down like I have a big sign; “ _Come in and sit down_ ”, which I do not,” she felt necessary to point out.

“Nope,” Root said, patiently listening to all the crazy ideas Shaw had about what constituted a surprise. “It’s something you’ll like,” she finally assured her girlfriend.

Feeling slightly ridiculous for some of her outlandish questions, Shaw simply uttered, “Oh,” and pulled on her jacket to hide her embarrassment. Then, she caught the look on Bear’s face. She could feel his judgement of the brown eyes. “Just … stop,” she instructed him as the doors opened to her floor and they all got off.

* * *

Then, in case there was any question about what this was all about; a large group of people, who had gathered to greet Sameen, all yelled; _you got it_ ; SURPRISE! Sameen immediately put her hand behind her to draw her gun, but Root gently reached out and touched her arm. “Look,” she whispered.

There, in front of them, on a cart with wheels, was the biggest, shiniest trophy she had ever seen in her life. It had a marble base and stood three feet tall. It was adorned with Olympic-style icons in brass, depictions of three sports; martial arts, shooting, and racing. And on top of that, was a large gold bowl. The gold plaque clearly showed that Sameen Shaw had won all three competitions in the first annual BEAR Triathlon.

Sameen had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

She walked over to it as people clapped and cheered. Janine had spent the morning polishing it and slapped any hand that attempted to touch it. She watched as Shaw’s eyes held it in her gaze, as she ran her hand over it. It wasn’t just the trophy that she had won by beating John; it was the first time that she received recognition that really meant something to her. Sameen’s prior acknowledgements always came with a layer of hesitation; ‘ _You’re so smart, talented, skilled, Sameen, BUT we know you can do better.’_

But this trophy came with no attachments; just pure positive credit.

Root knew Sameen would like it, but she watched as a wave of emotion billowed beneath the winner’s tough exterior. Root came up alongside Sameen and entwined their arms. She could feel the tension in Shaw as soon as she did. “Well, I think this calls for a celebratory meal,” Root said, wanting to be alone with Sameen. “Breakfast in the staff dining room,” she announced and the crowd ran to get theirs. Except Janine, who also sensed something was going on. She looked at Root and her expression asked her what she should do. Root’s smile in return thanked her. “Would you bring this to Ms. Shaw’s office?” Root asked and Janine pushed the heavy object in that direction.

“Are you okay?” Root then asked Shaw who had been silent as insights and old demons danced in her head.

It was hard to put words to it. “You…,” Shaw partially whispered because her throat was dry. “You just always do the nicest things for me.”

Sameen’s appreciation was layered with apprehension... and Root heard it. She knew Sameen was worried that she might get used to someone caring, someone taking care of her. And that this would somehow make her weak and unprepared in the future.  
“Remember, Sameen, ”Root said, taking her lover’s hands in her,“…you can have feelings and still be very strong. A good soldier does both.”

That phrasing caught Shaw’s attention and she looked in Root’s eyes. It was so easy to believe everything this woman said to her. It was as if Root understood the very thoughts that she, herself, was unable to articulate.

“Okay,” Shaw said, trusting what Root was telling her. “Okay.”

“I can stay, if you want,” Root asked, but Sameen assured her that she was okay. “I will see you in a little while, then.”

Shaw watched Root blow her a kiss goodbye from the elevator and smiled to think how fortunate she was to have Root in her life. She turned to see Bear, sitting there, looking at her worried. “I’m okay. I get uncomfortable with feelings sometimes,” she explained and Bear approached her and jumped up on her. “Yes, I love you, too,” she said to the sympathetic dog.

* * *

“I hate to disturb this dog-mance,” Fusco said, coming up behind her. “Come on, we have to talk,” he said, pulling his friend into her cubicle. “Holy crap, Maybelline, what the hell is this?”

“It’s my trophy,” Sameen said, proudly as she pulled herself back together. “You remember when I beat your friend, Reese and humiliated him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, bully for you,” Fusco said, his tone not indicating he was impressed.

“Excuse me?” his offended friend said. “I toppled a six-foot two guy, shot a perfect score, and drove faster than anyone could in that car!”

Lionel knew his friend well, and he knew if he didn’t give her the credit she was due, they would never move on. “Your majesty,” he bowed. “You were awesome.”

Shaw frowned at his attempt to sound sincere. “Work on that,” she instructed him.

“Okay, I will. Now, what are we going to tell Iris?” Fusco asked in a low voice, stepping on his toes to look over the cubicle to make sure no one was coming.

“What are _we_?” Shaw asked in an incredulous voice. “There’s no ‘ _we_ ’, Fusco,” she pointed out. 

“Okay,” he said, “What are _you_ going to tell her… _you_ … did?”

“There is no you, or me, either. Why do we have to say anything? We took care of the problem. Boy, you’d suck at undercover, have I mentioned that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” her friend replied. “Look, you know I’m not going to be able to keep it from her.”

“I knew it!” Shaw yelled. “Remind me, why are we friends again?”

“You know better than anyone, that woman has a way of getting you to spill things,” Fusco said in his defense.

He had a point, Shaw thought; often thinking the same thing about the therapist. “Okay, so go in and tell her that you mentioned it to someone and that they had a talk with the guy. Case solved.”

“She’s going to ask me who,” Fusco pointed out. “And remember, she told me not to do anything.”

“Which you ignored, by the way,” Shaw said.

“He was a whack job, though, right?” Lionel asked and hesitated.

“Are you…,” Shaw asked slowly. “ _Afraid_ of her?” She was almost going to burst out laughing.

“No!” Fusco said. “It’s just, she asked me not to. And then I did. So, she’s going to be upset, but not like you. I never have to guess what you’re thinking, Shaw.”

“Okay, _first_ ,” Shaw said, putting her finger up, “Do not compare me to your girlfriend.”

“She gets quiet and I can’t tell what’s going on in that genius brain of hers,” Lionel said, and now he sounded desperate.

As much as Sameen would argue the opposite, she had a soft spot of this guy. Lionel could be as tough as nails on the job, but when it came to his love life, he was a big teddy bear. One that Shaw wanted to rip the stuffing out of at the moment. “You don’t want me to tell her, do you?” Shaw asked because she was trying to point out how ludicrous it would be to make her the messenger on anything.

“Would you?” he misinterpreted. “I would owe you one, Shaw. Just … just,” he started to say and Sameen noticed he was walking out of her cubicle as he was coaching her. “… say that you heard about the guy and as part …yeah, as part of the Security Team, it’s your job to protect the staff. That’s true, right?” he asked nervously.

“Where are you going?” Shaw asked and had to walk out of her office to catch up with him.

“I got a full time job, Shaw. There are murders out there to be solved,” the detective explained.

“There’s going to be one right here, Fusco!” Shaw yelled.

“You tell her, Shaw and I will owe you. I’ll do anything,” Fusco said to the woman you should never say those words to.

“Wait… Fusco!” she yelled, but he was on the elevator and thanking her again. “What a freaking baby. Afraid to talk to his own… I’ll do it,” Shaw muttered to herself. But she noticed her feet weren’t taking her in the direction of the therapist’s office. She stood, shoving her hands into her pockets; bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Bear was sitting there, just looking at her.

“Where did you come from? And do not say New Jersey,” she said to him.

He howled his question, which in his mind was the obvious one to ask.

“I don’t know why he’s afraid,” Shaw said, looking back at the elevator.

The next question the dog offered was a little more personal.

“I am _not_ afraid to tell her,” Shaw balked and that got her engines started. “Afraid, pfft. I’m going there right now. I’ll show you who’s not afraid.”

Bear watched as Shaw mumbled all the way down the hallway. He shook his head and sneezed, unable to deal with the drama humans caused.

“Did you see her trophy?” Janine asked the canine and told him to come and she would show him. The dog followed Janine into the cubicle. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, enamored with the award.

How come Shaw got a trophy, but he hadn’t? He was going to have to take this up with Root right away.

As Shaw got herself ready to explain what happened to Iris, Bear marched upstairs to Root; ready to question her loyalties.

Only one of these conversations was going to go badly; very badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Ela_Root for reminding me that Shaw needed her trophy!


	78. Zip Your Lip

Although Iris had an early morning appointment, she was still at work long before most of the staff arrived. She had been with her therapist, because good therapists always have one of their own. Usually, her visits were to go over her clients and talk about how she was feeling in dealing with them. Iris’ supervisory therapist had noted, more than once, how her face lit up whenever she talked about her favorite client. “ _What is it about this woman that intrigues you so?” she asked Iris one time. Iris gave it some thought and answered; “Sameen’s honesty – with me and with herself.”_

But that day, Iris wasn’t talking about her favorite client or any other person who walked into her office at BEAR. She was talking about herself and her own concerns about her relationship with a man she felt she was getting very close to. There were obvious differences between the two, and she worried sometimes she was too ‘uptight’ for the ‘go with the flow’ detective.

“He’s been acting… different the last couple of days,” Iris shared. “It’s probably nothing, but last night he cancelled our date at the last minute. For no reason.”

The older woman listened to Iris discuss her feelings and concerns. “I think he would tell me if he thought there was a problem,” Iris said, her vulnerability showing to her shrink. The more she talked, the more she tried to tell herself that Lionel would tell her if anything was bothering him.

“How is your _other_ situation?” the woman eventually asked about the obsessed man sending flowers.

“I tried to call him at the office to discuss this, but they said he had been terminated,” Iris shared. “I’m hoping there are no flowers there today. She would be pleasantly surprised later when she found there were none waiting for her in her office.

Their time was up and Iris said she would see the woman next week. But, as she made her way to work that day, the gnawing suspicion that something was going on with her boyfriend came back to her.  She tried calling him, but he didn't pick up. 

* * *

Shaw mumbled her entire way down to Iris’ office, where for the first time since she started, she stopped at the receptionist’s desk.

“Hey, Stella,” Shaw said as if she had been friends with the woman when in fact; she had only learned her name yesterday. The woman seated behind the desk jumped, then sat there staring at the woman who usually walked right past her and barged into the inner office. “Doc in? Cause if she’s not, I can come back later,” Shaw suggested in a pleasant tone.

Shaw's friendly demeanor did nothing to put the woman at ease. She clutched a file to her chest. “She’s in,” she finally said.

“Oh,” Shaw responded, her finger tapping the edge of the desk. “I’ll just, you know, go in then. Hey, look,” she said looking around. “No flowers,” she smiled.

Stella watched as it took Sameen another minute to actually make her way across the short distance to the door. And… she knocked. Iris, of course, said to come in. “I’m… going in now,” Shaw told the woman as if she needed that piece of info.

* * *

“Sameen?” Iris said when Shaw stood in the doorway. She wasn’t surprised to see her; she was surprised she _knocked_. Iris was dressed in her usual light colored suit with the perfectly matching blouse. “Come in,” she finally said to the woman who typically flew to the couch.

Sameen closed the door and walked in, but instead of sitting on the couch, she stood behind it. A move, by the way, that Iris noted. She knew Sameen consciously, or unconsciously, needed something between them. Iris sat down in her usual chair across from the couch.

Shaw looked around the room. She liked the way this room was so bright and quiet. She liked that Iris was usually smiling when she came in. She liked that Iris could irritate the hell out of her, and never once seemed intimidated by her response. A part of Sameen worried that was all about to change. Going out on a limb for her friend may just cost her all of this.

Sameen also knew that Iris would give her all the time she needed to start talking. Another very annoying habit the woman had.

“I’m not here… officially,” Shaw stated and cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m not here to talk about me.”

“Okay,” Iris said smiling.

“So, did you see my trophy?” Shaw opened up with, contradicting herself right out of the gate.

“Yes, indeed. It’s quite impressive,” Iris said of the award. “Well deserved,” she smiled.

“Yeah, well, thanks,” Shaw said and then there was silence again. She needed something that would make telling Iris what happened a little easier. She really should have rehearsed something, she thought. She drew a deep breath and decided to get this over with.

“Okay, look,” Sameen said, coming from behind the couch and sitting in her usual spot. She sat closer to the edge of the seat, her legs opened as she leaned down on them. “I’m going to tell you something that’s not going to be easy to hear. And I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like it. But, I’m going to tell you anyway. Then, you can kick me out or tell me never to come back or whatever you people do when you’re pissed.”

That was… _new_.

Iris didn’t flinch, although she did raise her eyebrows. “I would never kick you out, nor tell you never to come back,” she assured the highlight of her day.

“Yeah, hold that thought,” Shaw said. The only thing she had to do now was to remember not to call Fusco by his real name. “So, Doc, I have this friend…,” she started and Iris had to admit, she had heard that line many times before. “… a real pain in the ass. I mean, the guy lives to torture me with his whining and complaining.” Shaw stopped and looked at Iris, her expression reading – ‘are you getting this?’

Iris had heard Sameen speak of a couple of people this way, but she had a pretty good idea who it was this time. “Go on,” Iris prompted her.

“Yeah, well in spite of all of that, I try to help him. Like when he was insisting on getting in better shape,” Shaw thought was a good example and remembered what happened. “Oh, well, I guess you… (cough)… remember that.”

“I do,” Iris affirmed, her eyes smiling, but this time less red rising in her cheeks.

“The point is that when he’s unhappy, he doesn’t keep it to himself,” Shaw pointed out.

Now, Iris wondered what had her boyfriend so bothered that he would reach out to Sameen. How could she have missed that something was bothering him? He did sound awfully strange on the phone last night when he cancelled their date. And she knew Sameen and Lionel were close, but why would he tell her and not Iris? Her instincts had been right; there was something wrong.

_See? Even therapists aren’t immune to irrational thoughts._

“Sameen, did he… your friend… ask you to come in here?” Iris asked.

“No, well, yes, actually he did. I didn’t want to do it, but he freaked out. He was afraid to tell you. I mean, what kind of a baby is that?” Shaw asked, laughing and sitting back on the couch now.

Then, in a rare moment, Iris took her focus off her patient and asked; “Wouldn’t this be better coming from him?”

“YES!” Sameen all but shouted. “I told him he should explain this himself, but he thought, since I was involved, I could do it. I think he was afraid of a … scene.”

The conversation between the two women was now leading them down two very different paths, and neither knew it.

“A.. _scene_? You were involved? Did he come to you about this? Iris asked, surprised that Lionel would discuss this with anyone else.

“Yeah, of course he came to me. Who else would he go to? He’s not exactly Mr. Popularity,” Shaw joked. “He knew he shouldn’t get involved,” she explained.

“He said that?” Iris said, defensively.

“Yes, he said he knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t help himself,” Shaw paraphrased incorrectly.

Now even Iris knew she was off track and wasn’t concentrating on her client. “Sameen, do you think maybe this is a topic we should leave for… someone else?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Shaw explained patiently. “I told Fusco to tell you about our little plan.”

“ _Your_ plan? You’re in on it?” Iris asked horrified that Sameen was helping her boyfriend break up with her.

“Look, even if he wanted to, let’s face it; Fusco could not have carried this out. He does not have the finesse it takes to pull this off,” Shaw said.

“The _finesse_?” Iris repeated.

“I’ve got it coming out of my… ,” Sameen said and caught herself and coughed. “A lot,” she changed it to. “But our good friend? Not so much.” Misreading Iris’ confusion for calmness, Sameen was encouraged to go on. “I told him we’d come up with a plan to make it go easy. Go in, size it up, take care of it, and get out.”

“This… is how you two agreed it should be taken care of?” Iris asked in horror.

“I’d like to say he’s the brawn and I’m the brains, but let’s face it, Doc; I have a trophy out there that proves I’m the brawn, too,” Shaw said, pleased this was going so well.

“So, now what?” Iris asked, totally confused.

“Nothing. He’s out of your life,” Shaw said, swiping her hands against one another. “It’s done.”

“I must say, this is all very… odd,” Iris let out.

“Oh yeah, he was odd. I mean, he thought he was being slick with you. But Root took care of that,” Sameen smiled of the cooperative work they did.

“Root? She knows about this?” Iris asked.

“Sure, she was the master planner. She’s actually smoother than I am, so she got our foot in the door. Then, it was just a matter of talking to him and getting him to confess,” Shaw explained.

“Confess?” Iris asked.

“About how he thought you were playing hard to get?” Shaw explained.

“Excuse me?” Iris said in a voice louder than Sameen had ever heard.

“Don’t take it personally, Doc. He’s an idiot. He thought you were just playing with him. But we got him to stop. Root got him fired,” Sameen said proud of her girlfriend.

“He’s fired? He’s not there?” Iris asked, wondering if this is why Fusco didn’t want to talk last night. “I tried to talk to him…”

“Yeah, with all due respect to that talking stuff you do, Doc?” Sameen began, “… not everyone deserves it.”

“I… guess you’re right,” Iris said, deep in thought; confused and muddled thought.

“So,” Sameen said, standing up, “You don’t have to worry about him. And if he comes around or tries to call you, or send you flowers, you just tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

Shaw stood up, pleased that this went as smoothly as it did. Iris was beyond confused.

Perhaps if Fusco hadn’t been acting weird and had confessed that he involved Sameen in the very thing he said he would not get involved in, none of this would have happened.

But he didn’t.

And it did.

Sameen waited for Iris to stand up, which actually took a couple of minutes. “Oh,” Iris finally said and stood up. “Thank you for telling me,” she said even though she didn’t mean it.

“Sure thing, Doc,” Shaw said, glad this was over.

Iris went back to sit at her desk, uncertain of what to do.

Shaw went back to her desk; certain she had done a great job.

* * *

Her phone beeped and she picked it up. “How did it go?” Fusco whispered into the phone.

“How do you know I talked to her?” Sameen asked.

“I don’t know. Did you?” Fusco asked.

“Maybe,” Shaw tortured him.

“Shaw!” he pleased.

“Okay, okay, I talked to her. I explained everything. She was fine. Not upset. You’re a big baby, Fusco,” Shaw lectured.

“I was going to come up and take her to lunch,” he shared.

“Good, just don’t sit by my table okay, because I have heard enough about you to last me a week,” Shaw bellowed.

“Geez, Shaw, and I was going to ask you to join me and my girlfriend because I need you involved in my love life,” he retorted.

“It would only improve,” Shaw promised him.

* * *

An hour later, as Fusco made his way to his girlfriend’s office to surprise her, he was met with a very chilly reception. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I guess you understand, now that Shaw told you,” he asked.

Iris was surprised he’d come all the way there just to rub her face in it. “I understand perfectly!”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” he asked.

“Mad? Why should I be mad? You asked your friend to come in here and speak for you,” Iris said annoyed.

“I just thought she could, maybe explain It better,” Lionel confessed.

“I think we need to talk,” Iris said, her arms crossed and her face very tight.

Lionel sat on the couch, expecting that Iris might have been polite with Shaw and saved her annoyance for him.

“I cannot believe that after all the time we’ve been together, you would ask your friend to come in here and tell me it’s over,” Iris snapped.

“Well, isn’t it better that it’s over?” Lionel asked.

“Do you think it’s better that it’s over?” Iris asked.

“Well, yeah,” Lionel answered truthfully.

“Then, what are you doing here?” Iris demanded to know.

“I came to take you to lunch,” Lionel explained and didn’t understand the surprise look on Iris’ face. “To smooth things over. In case you was upset.”

“You had your friend come in here and tell me you were breaking up with me and now you want to take me to lunch?” Iris asked incredulously.

“Wait! What?” he asked, getting off the couch. “She told you I wanted to break up with you?”

“Yes!” Iris affirmed.

“Would you excuse me a minute?” he asked and decided he needed to get Shaw in the same room as Iris.

* * *

He marched down the hallway, waking straight into Shaw’s office. “Got a minute, _Hermes_ ,” he asked, referring to the Greek god who was a messenger.

“Now what?” Shaw asked annoyed. “The designer?” she asked of the name. She was in the middle of eating a bag of candy and really didn’t want to be disturbed. “Wook,” she said, showing him how Janine had filled the trophy bowl with candy. A large piece had just been shoved in her mouth sideways.

“Did you tell Iris we were breaking up?” Fusco whispered.

“Wat? No,” Shaw said, thinking her friend was insane.

“Well, she thinks you said I sent you in to tell her we were breaking up,” he barked.

“Oh, you are such a pain…,” Shaw said, but didn’t get to finish.

“Yeah, yeah, Shaw,” Fusco said, taking the bull by the horns; or in this case, by the arm as he dragged her to Iris’ office.

Janine watched as the brave detective manhandled his friend. “Oh, oh,” she said.

Stella watched as Shaw protested, but Fusco pulled her anyway, back into the inner office.

* * *

“Tell her,” he demanded in a serious tone.

“I told her,” Shaw protested.

“Did I send you in here to tell her that I was breaking up with her?” Fusco asked.

“You’re breaking up with her?” Shaw asked astonished, almost choking on her candy. “Are you insane? Where are you going to find someone better than her? You know, I know I kid you about your social life, but seriously, Fusco, this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to you! Besides me.”

Iris was trying to explain this was most inappropriate in her office, but the two friends were not even listening to her.

“Besides you! I’m not breaking up with her, Shaw. She thought that’s why I sent you in here because of what you said,” Fusco explained. “So, straighten this out.”

Now, in all fairness, Lionel should have said _‘Please, with sugar on top,_ ’ but he didn’t.

“Maybe I misunderstood,” Iris said, trying to own up to her part in all of this, but her confession was lost in the argument.

“Are you seriously trying to boss me around, Fusco?” Shaw sneered.

“You gotta fix this,” Fusco pointed out. “What did you say?”

But Shaw stood there, glaring at the man who was not allowed to be rude to her.

“I think maybe I …,” Iris tried again, but was ignored.

“Okay, okay,” Fusco conceded. “Please tell her…”

“Fine! I told her how you were a baby and didn’t want to tell her we took care of the nutty therapist who was sending her the flowers,” Shaw pointed out.

“What?” Iris asked, because this was news, but again, no one was listening.

“How did you mess up one simple message,” Fusco asked.

“Excuse me?” Iris said calmly, one more time.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because it was your job to tell her,” Sameen pointed out.

“SIT!” Iris finally said, surprised at her own loudness. “Please,” she said, when they finally stopped bickering and looked at her. “Let’s all just sit down and see if we can sort this out,” she smiled.

“I swear, Fusco, you always get me in trouble,” Shaw said.

“No one’s in trouble,” Iris pointed out.

“Well, if you could relay a simple message,” Fusco jabbed.

“Please?” Iris said and this time the two actually sat down on the couch.

“Sameen, I’m sorry,” Iris began. “I think I misunderstood your message. Now, maybe if we can just start at the beginning,” Iris suggested. She meant, sum it up in a couple of sentences. Sameen thought she wanted her to go back to the very first thing she said.

Fusco was about to explain how he knew she didn’t want him to get involved, but he was worried and asked Sameen to look into the situation. He would have even said he was sorry for not abiding Iris’ wishes and not telling her himself what happened.

But Sameen spoke first.

“He was worried about you. You asked him not to get involved, which is kind of unfair to ask a detective because they see what happens when things go unattended and besides, he’s crazy for you. Not his usual crazy; this is more intense. So, he mentioned it to me, seeing how I would do anything for him and for you, for that matter. So, I followed the delivery guy to the place he works. Obnoxious guy who can’t tell us who is sending the flowers. Well, he wouldn’t tell Root because of confidentiality, but I went back in and changed his mind. I look like I can break a lot of glass when I’m annoyed. So, he casually leaves the info on his screen and I see the name, except there are a dozen guys with the same name. But, we narrow it down to the place where you volunteer. That was my idea. So, Root and I go there, and we talk to him because Root says her girlfriend is strung out on drugs; that’s me, and only wants the best. He asked me some dumbass questions which I can answer because I’ve worked around druggies, and he recommends a thirty day inpatient stint. And Root says; this was brilliant, she can’t have me be away from her that long. So this guy thinks – hey, a fellow obsessed person – without the overdose of flowers - and he bonds with her. I walk out and he confesses to how he’s been sending you flowers because he believes you’re playing hard to get. Root taped the whole thing and before we were out of there, he got his ass canned for being nuts. And, for the record,” she finally took a breath, “… I did not kick anyone’s ass.”

After that run on monologue, Sameen was out of breath.

“This is all my fault,” Lionel said.

“I completely misunderstood,” Iris confessed.

“You two really do belong together,” Shaw summed up, annoyed she was back in there.

* * *

As Sameen was busy untangling what had happened, Bear was upstairs with Root, making his case.

“It’s very big, I know,” Root agreed of the trophy, after Bear complained about its size.

“Well, you refuse to do the dog shows and they give them out there,” she pointed out, but there was more loud howling because he didn’t quite understand why he would be in a dog show.

“Westminster _was_ a dog show,” she pointed out and he thought it was a show about people being led around by dogs.

“You could rescue someone,” Root suggested as she stared at her computer.

Bear asked her to explain that.

“Save someone from a dangerous situation,” Root elaborated. “That’s trophy worthy.”

Bear had his information and took off. All he had to do was rescue someone. And if it was someone that Root cared about, perhaps the trophy would be even bigger than Shaw’s.

Shaw!  
All he had to do was rescue Shaw from a dangerous situation.

* * *

“Bear, have you seen Sameen?” Janine asked as the canine appeared on their floor. “I thought she’d be back by now. I’m worried about her. She was in to see Dr. Campbell this morning. Then, her friend, the detective came, and then they went back into Dr. Campbell’s office,” Janine said, out loud wondering why Sameen was in there for so long. “I hope she’s okay.”

Bear suddenly had the best idea.

He raced down the hallway, right past Stella who never even saw him, and jumped up to open the door knob. One quick look indicated that Sameen looked very uncomfortable.

So, Bear did what he did best.

He grabbed Shaw by the ankle, dragged her off the couch, and out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was going for the humor here, but always and foremost, want the characters - well, in character.


	79. All Better

“Feel free to shoot him, Fusco,” Shaw yelled, but her friend was too busy kissing his girlfriend. He was so happy that the mix up was now straightened out.

Bear was not deterred and knew enough to grab Shaw by her pants leg. “Hello? Stella?” Shaw called out to her new friend, but when the woman turned, she couldn’t see anything, so she turned back around.

Bear was certain that he had just rescued his friend, but he needed someone to witness it. He stopped long enough to bark loudly, but that was enough time for Sameen to be up on her feet. He might have reconsidered the whole thing except Sameen thanked him for rescuing her. Not smooth, but a definite rescue. He knew everyone had seen Shaw win at the games when she beat Reese. In his mind, someone had to witness this. He barked again and started to get noticed. Then, he recaptured his rescued individual. And as Bear’s luck would have it, Root was coming down to see how Sameen was. She had just asked Janine, who explained what she saw and how worried she was.  
Bear barreled towards Shaw, knocked her down again and grabbed her by the ankle to drag her towards Root.

“I am going to kill you,” Shaw bellowed, but when people looked up from their desks, they couldn’t see her. “Someone, get me a gun,” she said because hers was locked in her desk. The person who did notice the commotion was Root. She and Janine stepped outside the cubicle in time to see their favorite woman being dragged against her will.

“She must weigh nothing,” Janine commented because Bear did not seem to be struggling.

“Bear!” Root said, but he didn’t stop until he was close enough to drop Shaw’s leg right in front of Root. Like a trained retriever bringing back the fowl, he sat there proudly.

“Your dog…,” Shaw said as Root helped her up, “… is insane. He just dragged me out of Doc’s office, all the way here. Not that I minded being _rescued_ ,” Shaw said again and Bear barked to make sure Root understood he had accomplished his mission.

“You did, didn’t you?” Root noted and petted his head.

“Wait, you’re encouraging him?” Shaw asked, astonished.

Root was all smiles when she explained that Bear just earned a trophy. “I kind of promised him,” Root said in a whisper, which of course he heard.

“YES!” Bear barked, his tail wagging with excitement.

“You’re… getting… him a trophy?” Shaw asked in exactly the tone a displeased sibling would.

“Not a really big one,” Root said, not moving her lips.

“I don’t care how big it is,” Shaw said, but Janine looked straight at Root to indicate she thought Shaw would care.

“He wanted to do something that would be trophy worthy and I told him rescuing someone would qualify. I guess he thought you were in danger,” Root explained.

“Yeah, danger of losing what little sanity I have left. How come all my good deeds are punished, but his insane deeds get rewards?” Shaw demanded to know.

There was more barking as Bear advised Root not to listen to Shaw and that she probably hit her head when she was being ‘dragged’. Then, he quickly changed that bark to ‘rescued’.

“No, she didn’t,” Root answered him with great affection. “We’ll talk about it later,” she said.

Sameen watched as the canine walked away. “He’s actually got swag over this,” she noted of his gait.

“I refilled the bowl with candy,” Janine said, the way people try to make second place winners feel better about their, well, second place.

“Thanks,” Shaw said, because she had gone through a few pieces.

Janine gave Root that sympathetic look that indicated she thought Shaw needed some Root time. Sameen walked back to her office with Root. “Look at my pants!” she said, sitting down and feeling the dog drool all over them. “I’m making him pay to get these cleaned.”

“Do you really thing Janine isn’t going to have another pair sent up right now?” Root said softly to her upset girlfriend.

“Oh,” Sameen said, taking a candy from her trophy bowl. “Want one?”

“No, thank you,” Root replied. “What was going on?” Root asked about Shaw’s morning.

“Ugh. That damn Fusco. He wanted me to tell Iris about what we did yesterday. Such a baby, I swear. So, I did. But the doc thought I was saying he wanted to break up. You know, you would think good listening skills would be a requirement in her job. Those two are exhausting,” Shaw complained and shoved a piece of candy in her mouth. “And I think he broke skin,” she said, looking down to her foot that was covered in a boot.

“Do you want to come upstairs and nap?” Root asked sincerely.

“I want to kill Fusco. Then, I want to …,” Shaw was about to say something about Bear, so Root just leaned in and kissed her mouth with the sweetest tasting lipstick covered lips.

“Why did you?” Shaw was asking, but she was too busy running her teeth over her bottom lip.

“Because you’re my hero,’ Root said, playing with the long strands of Shaw’s hair that never seemed to bother her. “And besides, I promise to kiss and make it better. “

“Okay,” Sameen said, because that was a really nice kiss. “My ankle?” she asked, to be sure.

“Anywhere you want,” Root said, her voice instantly sultry and distracting.

“Okay,” Sameen said, thinking of the parts of her that might have been injured in that rescue.

“Lunch?” Root suggested and it took a minute, but Shaw said yes because helping people was not only exhausting, but it burned a tremendous amount of calories.

“I think my ass hit the floor… when he pulled me off,” Shaw noted, testing the waters.

“There, too,” Root said, looking straight ahead, but smiling gloriously.

“You really mean anywhere, when you say anywhere,” Sameen noted.

* * *

The theme of their lunchtime discussion was how stressful Shaw found most people.

Sameen had actually told the owner she was too tired to fight over her lunch order and to please just put it all in a bag. The woman stared and didn’t move. “Please,” Shaw said in her sweetest voice and the woman began to get the order. But she pulled on Root and wouldn’t let her go until she assured her that Shaw was okay. “She not acting okay,” the woman insisted. She then announced if Shaw did the same thing tomorrow, she was calling her nephew who was a neurosurgeon at New York Hospital. “We’ll get her tested!” she assured Root and Root thanked her for her concern.

It gave Root an idea. 

“How is my sibling AI,” Shaw asked during lunch. “You know, the sister who _isn’t_ annoying.”

Root laughed at Shaw’s remark, the way she always laughed at her funny quips. “Harry thinks we can utilize it to identify potential threats to people,” Root explained.

“And then what? We don our capes and go rescue them?” Shaw asked, her mouth full of delicious pastrami from Parks Deli.

“Well, we need to figure that part out,” Root explained. Shaw stopped and looked at the furrow in her girlfriend’s brow.

“Are you worried about this? Because if you’re worried or stressed about this, I will ship that thing to my mother and she can bring it to Connecticut with her,” Shaw said, not wanting anything to upset Root.

“Thanks, Sweetie,” Root said, smiling and assuring Shaw she was okay. “It’s a big responsibility; we all have.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Shaw said, because she believed there was no problem too big that they couldn’t handle. “We caught a killer, got a chauvinistic doctor canned, and a obsessed therapist fired,” she reminded Root. “We can do anything together.”

Those simple words were enough to assure Root that any concerns she had, could be worked out. Sameen was already planning the AI’s demise if it caused Root any apprehension. She also knew Root was looking at this from a bigger picture; one that she didn’t quite get. “You know,” she felt she need to point out to the woman she adored; “There is no greater good if you’re unhappy.”

It wasn’t Hallmark card material, but Root knew it was Sameen’s way of saying she was first. “Thank you,” the CEO said, touching the steel like arm of the woman who would tear the machine to shreds, one tiny chip at a time.

* * *

As Root predicted, there was a new pair of pants waiting for Sameen when she returned from lunch. She looked around and seeing no one, proceeded to take off the salvia stained ones and put them on. No need to go all the way to the bathroom.

“Nice trophy, Shaw,” Reese said, having just come back from an all-day seminar on security tactics. He had missed the presentation, earlier that morning.

“Thanks?” Shaw said, one leg in the pants, one leg out. She wasn’t at all embarrassed, but she knew Reese would be.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t know… I’ll be…,” John stammered and pointed to anywhere but Shaw’s office.

“That was better than him seeing the trophy,” Shaw laughed. “Hey, Reese? Did you want to SEE me?” she called after him.

“Nice trophy, Shaw,” he called from down the hallway.

“It has candy in it. Do you want to SEE it?” she yelled, teasing the man.

“I’m good,” he yelled back because Reese didn’t handle embarrassment well.

* * *

Root returned to her office and made a few calls. She had thought of how stressed Sameen seemed to be and thought about her own tenseness of late. First she considered couples' massages, but didn’t think she’d enjoy seeing anyone else touch her girlfriend. No, maybe something else that they could do together. One call to the premier yoga master and it was all set. The man himself would be at their Penthouse this evening to guide them through meditation and yoga therapy.

It worked for Bear, she thought. Why wouldn’t it work for them?

Root texted Sameen and told her she would meet her at home later and that she had a surprise.

It wouldn't be as big as the one waiting for Root.

* * *

Root thought she’d stop and get them outfits for their new venture. She had asked Isabelle not to come until after their first session because she was instructed to remove all things that might cause the new students to be distracted. In other words, the chef could not be there.

Swarup Sood was highly recommended and very expensive. He required being at the home an hour before so that he could prepare both mentally and physically for the new students. He was deep in meditation when he sensed the tension in the room. But his rule was not to be disturbed. Surely, the woman who was trying to communicate with him understood that.

Shaw had arrived thirty minutes before Root.  She expected Root's absence, but not the chef's.  As soon as she walked in and there was no aroma waffling through the air, she worried. Her first attempt to get the man’s attention was polite. Okay, close to polite. “Hey!” she called out to the man sitting on the floor. “Hey, buddy,” she tried the second time.

When she proved to be unrelenting, the man emerged from his contemplative state. A slight argument ensued as the man highlighted the intruder’s rudeness and disrespect. Shaw argued back, louder and more animated. He attempted to put his hand on her arm.

* * *

 

Finally, Root appeared, carrying their new outfits she picked up for their private lesson.  “That’s funny,” Root said, walking in and seeing Sameen on the couch with a bag of chips.

“No, it’s not funny. I don’t know where she is,” Sameen said of the chef. “She should be here, right?”

“No, I mean Yogi Sood. He was supposed to be here,” Root said, looking at the mat where the man was sitting before.

“Short dude? Dressed in white?” Sameen asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen him,” Root said.

“He’s in the closet,” Sameen said and went back to eating her snack.

“He’s where? Did you put him there?” Root asked, slightly aghast.

“Yes,” Shaw answered. 

“He’s our new yoga instructor,” Root explained and Sameen nearly choked on her potato chips, she was laughing so hard at that joke.

“Oh, you’re serious?” Sameen asked when Root wasn’t laughing.  "He touched my arm." 

The closer Root got to the closet, the more she could hear the man yelling. “Mr. Sood?” she asked to be sure, as he emerged, unscathed.

“No! I cannot do this!” he complained and explained that the woman had accosted him and shoved him in there.

“You did touch her,” Root said, scrunching up her face the way you do when you’re breaking the news that the person is wrong. “You can’t touch her.”

The man walked very quickly to gather his belongings, but when he saw Sameen, he back tracked his steps to the elevator. “You can send it to me,” he said to Root.

“Who was that?” Shaw asked, getting the general idea.

“I thought he could help us learn to de-stress,” Root explained apologetically.

“Really? _That’s_ the way you thought we could de-stress?” Shaw asked, amazed that her girlfriend’s idea was so simple. “No fantasy? No dressing up as a masseuse?” she was suggesting when Root grabbed her hand, spilling the chips all over.

It was one thing for Root to come up with the ideas, but when Shaw thought one up, Root was on board.

Root didn’t stop until they were outside the spare bedroom that had become their playroom. “Your masseuse will be in shortly, Ms. Shaw. Please get ready,” Root instructed in a low voice.

“Oh, okay,” Shaw said, catching on. “But…” and she didn’t want to spoil the mood by asking about Isabelle, but she was really hungry.

“We have until seven thirty,” Root assured her, reading her worried expression.

“Great!” Shaw said, enthusiastically. “I’ll just go in… and wait,” she smiled now that all her questions were answered.

“Elsa will be in momentarily,” Root said.

“Oh, God. Is Elsa Swedish? They give great massages,” Shaw said.

“She is now,” Root smiled and went to get ready.

Root returned, and in the most exaggerated accent she could muster, explained that she was going to massage Sameen’s tensions away. “I believe there was also the promise of kissing my injuries?” Shaw said in a husky voice.

Root, aka Elsa, would prove she was a woman of her word.

* * *

Hours later:

“I was certain she asked me to have dinner ready for eight,” Isabelle said to Bear that night at eight forty-five when no one appeared.

Bear whined that he had been waiting even longer to discuss his trophy.


	80. Because I Love You

The next morning, Sameen woke up before Root and went into the bathroom. She looked at the sluggish body that had spent the evening getting relaxed, then excited, then relieved, then relaxed again. It was an endless cycle of pleasure. Root always put such thought into thinking of fun things to do, that Sameen wanted to repay her in kind.

“You can do this, Sameen,” she said as she gripped the sides of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. “It will be one, two hours tops and she loves doing it.” Then, she caught the grimace her facial muscles made. Her head dropped and caught sight of her tattoo on her arm. She looked up at herself in the eye again. “You are a Marine, God damn it,” she chastised her hesitation. “Semper Fi,” she uttered in the weakest gung-ho voice a soldier ever used.

By the time she emerged, her courage renewed, her bravery intact, Root was sitting up in bed.

“Good morning,” Root smiled, suddenly aware of how stiff her marine girlfriend was approaching the bed. “That was fun,” she commented on last night’s tryst.

“It was,” Sameen said and stood at the foot-board, her eyes looking upward as she recalled her commitment to do this. “So, I was thinking,” she began her speech haltingly. “I thought maybe you would want to go… shhh…,” and the word caught in her throat until she pushed it out with all her marine might. “Shoe…shop…ping.”

“REALLY?” Root said, and leaped from the bed to the end to kneel in front of Sameen. “Wait, do you mean just me, or you’ll go with me?”

“No, no…,” Sameen said as her head argued there was her out, “…I’ll go… with you,” she finished her fractured thought.

Now, Sameen enjoyed a good high heeled shoe when she was dressing up, but she preferred they appear in her closet, ready to wear. She wanted the victory, without the battle. Unless it was for food, shopping of any kind made the woman moan out loud.

And not in a good way.

Root, on the other hand, or foot in this case, enjoyed shopping the way her girlfriend enjoyed sports. The more times, the merrier.

“We could start at Jimmy Choo’s in SoHo,” Root said and it reminded Sameen that her girlfriend didn’t go to the big department stores where you could find any style. No, Root liked to go to the designer shops that were filled with the kind of people Sameen found annoying. “Oh, then we could go to Fiorentini and Baker, Steve Madden,” and the more she remembered the stores she loved, the more excited she got. “Let me just get dressed,” Root said, jumping off the bed and rushing back to kiss her obviously pouting girlfriend. “Are you sure?” she asked to be certain.

“Absolutely!” Sameen said, the four syllable word dragged over lips..

Root actually squealed and ran to get ready. “Go get breakfast while I get dressed,” she called out to Shaw.

* * *

The shorter woman slumped as she walked slowly down the stairs. Yes, she had suggested it, but she believed it was going to be nothing short of torment to go through with it.

“Are you okay?” Isabelle asked as soon as she saw Sameen.

“We’re going shoe shopping,” Sameen explained, sitting down at the counter top to eat.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Isabelle said, offering her condolences because she knew how much Sameen hated it.

“No, it was my idea,” Shaw confessed. “Root actually likes it,” she said the way people marvel at how others could enjoy haggis.

“You’re such a good girlfriend,” Isabelle remarked. “You’re going to need your strength.” She piled the scrambled eggs, turkey bacon and toast onto Sameen’s plate.

“I might need vitamins,” Shaw contemplated.

“You know, she’ll know if you’re regretting this,” Isabelle felt the need to mention.

Sameen knew exactly what she meant and sat up straight and put a broad smile on that showed all of her teeth.

“A little less teeth,” Isabelle said and Sameen made a second attempt. “Better.”

Within minutes, Shaw had eaten and Root was downstairs, ready to go.

“We’re going shoe shopping!” she announced with a smile to Isabelle.

“That’s…,” she hesitated. “Have fun, you two.”

Sameen knew that if she wasn’t convincing, it would ruin it for Root, so she mustered up her enthusiasm and slapped it on.

* * *

“They have the cutest black boots,” Root said, when they went into the first shop.

“I like boots,” Shaw said, but sat on the leather sofa as soon as they got there.

The clerk saw who was in his store and got very excited. His voice was so high; Sameen swore it could shatter glass. “Take that down a notch would you?” she asked as he approached.

“Miss Groves! It is such a pleasure, an honor really,” he gushed at Root. The man was so thrilled, he clapped his hands and two more clerks appeared, bringing box after box out to show Root. She would take them out and put them on, then walk back and forth to see how they feel.

“What do you think?” she would ask Sameen who felt as if someone just asked her to comment on the pros and cons of concrete flooring.

“They look nice,” Shaw smiled, and realized how adorable her geek of a girlfriend was when something actually stumped her.

“I don’t know,” the genius, who rarely uttered those words, said when she couldn’t decide.

“I like them,” Shaw announced because she was busy staring at Root’s long legs.

“I’ll take them,” Root smiled and the clerk couldn’t have been happier.

* * *

It didn’t take a genius to figure out how gallant Sameen was being, but it took one to know when she had enough. Two stores later, Root announced that she was hungry.

“Really?” Shaw asked, unable to hold back the enthusiasm.

“There’s a little café around the corner,” she said, taking Sameen’s arm as they walked to the place that served delicious steak sandwiches.

The couple was seated in the corner of the crowded restaurant. Sameen didn’t even have to look at the menu; she could tell by the aroma that this was a steak place. They placed their orders.

“I really do appreciate you coming with me,” Root said, playing footsies with Sameen under the table.

“Sure, it was fun,” Shaw lied. “Well, the staring-at-you part was,” she said truthfully.

Two men were seated near to them at the next table. Not recognizing the well-known CEO, they mistook them for a couple of women out shopping for the day. The two men eyed each other as they stole glances at the beautiful women sitting there. They also mistook them for the kind of women who would be impressed when one of them said Root had a fine looking body.

Shaw shook her head and put her sandwich down. “Listen, I am really enjoying this sandwich and would prefer not to interrupt it to get up and smash your head on the table. So, please refrain from speaking to my girlfriend again,” Shaw asked.

Then, they made noises that they had missed the two women were together. One leaned over to the other and asked; “Do you think they …?” one whispered, and they erupted into laughter.

Rude, just rude.

The loud noise of his head hitting the hard surface was all anyone heard. He was out cold. Root stared at Shaw as she, in turn, stared hard at the remaining seated man. “Apologize,” Shaw said, jerking her head in Root’s direction. He hesitated, but as soon as Shaw moved, he turned and apologized to Root.

“Now, apologize to her,” Root said, in a much calmer tone, but just as serious. The man turned back to Shaw and did. She sat back down as the man tried to wake up his friend. Root didn’t care for people acting poorly, but she enjoyed her girlfriend’s defending her honor. The man told the waitress they would take their order to go, and he dragged his groggy friend away.

* * *

“Oh,” Root said, enjoying her food, “I told Reese we would cover for him at the company bowling league tonight.” John had asked Root if she thought she and Shaw could take his and Martine’s places that night. Since it was a sport, Root thought Shaw wouldn’t mind.

“ _Company_ … _bowling_ … _league_?” Shaw said slowly to make sure she heard it right.

“Yes… yes… yes…,” Root answered, smiling.

“Remember the old days when you just tazed, drugged and zip tied me to torture me? It was so fast,” Shaw reminisced fondly.

It took Root a second to put together than Sameen thought of bowling as some form of agony. “But it’s a sport. With a ball and everything,” she pointed out.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, taking little consolation in that. “Hey, how come Reese didn’t come to me and ask?”

Root took Shaw’s soda and took a long sip; raising her eyebrows and shrugging her shoulders. Sameen was getting good at curbing her instinct to grab back her soda.

“Okay, fine,” she said,, rolling her eyes and eating the last of her sandwich.

“Really?” Root said, pleased that Sameen agreed. “I bought us bowling shoes.” Sameen had lost count of how many different pairs her girlfriend had purchased.

“You didn’t think to mention it to me when you were buying the shoes?” Shaw asked.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Root said and really meant it.

“Oh, it is, trust me,” Shaw quipped. “Wait until I get Reese,” she murmured under her breath. She knew exactly why he went to Root and not to her.

“It’ll be fun,” Root said, because as long as she was with Sameen, everything was.

Shaw nodded, but couldn’t imagine how that could be true. ‘ _Oh, what the hell_ ,’ she thought to herself, ‘… _can’t be worse than shoe shopping._ ’

Silly, Shaw.


	81. Connecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goal: Help you to get to know Ayala better (as requested) w/o having Martine appear OOC.  
> Let me know if it worked.

“Where are Reese and Martine that they can’t go?” Shaw asked annoyed, but Root admitted she didn’t know. “Didn’t you want to know what lame ass excuse they had?” she inquired, but Root acknowledged she didn’t. “Yeah, well I’m going to find out,” Shaw barked, but Root said they had to go or they would be late. The bowling alley was all the way in Brooklyn.

* * *

“What is that smile on your face, John?” Carter asked as they sat at a fancy, intimate restaurant that took him three weeks to get reservations.

“I’m happy to be here,” John said, but Carter sat back in her chair and took another look. Those baby blues revealed everything to her.

“Uh-uh,” she said after staring at him. “There’s a smirk in those eyes. What did you do?” Joss questioned.

John wasn’t sure how Joss saw through him, and attributed it to her combination of mothering and detective skills, but he was pretty sure he felt sorry for Taylor. “I got out of bowling tonight,” John answered, immediately taking a sip of his drink.

“Look, John, you’re not as smooth as you think you are. So, you don’t want to tell me?” she asked letting him know she wouldn’t let up.

“I got Shaw to take my place,” he confessed and now that twinkling in his eyes burst into a smile on his face.

“What is it with you two?” Joss asked, shaking her head.

“I like Shaw,” John said, but what he meant was he loved getting one over on her.

“You like torturing her. You know this is completely juvenile, right?” Joss asked.

John looked at the woman who was right. “Yeah,” he agreed, but couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Shaw in bowling shoes. “I hope they tell her she can’t throw the ball,” he thought out loud.

“Remember, John, payback's a bitch,” Joss warned him.

* * *

Across town, Martine was enjoying her date, but without quite the same glee as her boss. “I don’t know, Reese said he would take care of it and told me I could skip the company bowling game,” she said as Ayala prepared dinner. Since there was no kitchen in the hotel suite, Martine invited Ayala to her apartment. She accepted, but insisted that she order all the ingredients for the meal.

“Did you see shallots?” the injured cook asked as she prepared the ingredients in the kitchen with one arm. Martine wasn’t sure what she was making, but it smelled wonderful.

“I wish you would let me help,” Martine said to the woman whose arm was still bandaged.

“Comes off next week. I got this,” she said taking the vegetable. She struggled to hold it with one hand as she tried to cut it.

“At least let me help,” Martine insisted and held the bulbous food so Ayala could chop it up.

“I could… cut you,” she said, but realized just how close Martine was to her now.

“I’m not worried,” Martine said, looking into the younger woman’s dark eyes.

“Hold it still,” she laughed because Martine’s eyes were focused on admiring her beautiful skin and smile. The blonde haired woman turned Ayala’s jaw, leaned down and kissed the younger woman’s lips. “This is nice,” Martine said when she finally released Ayala. “Very nice.”

“Yeah,” Ayala said, but wasn’t as smooth as her host in expressing her feelings. “It is.”

Martine asked what was for dinner. Ayala listed off the Mediterranean specialties of her homeland. “Quinoa salad with pistachios, eggplant with chermoula, grilled lamb for you,” she listed.

“You made me lamb?” Martine said, slightly happy that she recognized one thing on the menu.

“I can’t have you starving,” Ayala teased.

“Thanks,” Martine said, watching the younger woman struggle with the preparation. “Does stubbornness just run in your family?” Martine asked.

“You mean because my mother wouldn’t accept your invitation to dinner?” Ayala guessed wrong. She was impressed that Martine was thoughtful enough to extend the offer, but Azar politely refused.

“No, I mean because all three of you are very determined in your own ways,” Martine said.

“My mother is stubborn, my sister is pigheaded,” Ayala began.

“And you’re not?” Martine teased.

“I can’t be pigheaded,” Ayala explained, “I’m Jewish; it’s not kosher.”

It was the first time that Martine had seen the woman so relaxed and making jokes.

Preparing the meal proved to be more challenging than Ayala had anticipated and she struggled against her immobility. Finally, out of frustration, she ripped the sling off and removed the cumbersome bandaging. Her shoulder was stiff, but at least she could move now. “I just need something..,” she said about the gauze above her stitches.

“Here,” Martine said, getting a large roll of duct tape. “Your sister taught me this,” she explained, pulling and ripping off a piece, and attaching it to the gauze. “Good as new.”

“Sameen taught you that?” Ayala asked, thinking it was pretty ingenious. “I didn’t think she was that resourceful.”

“Well then, you’ve got to get to know your sister better. She’s a really cool person,” Martine said of her coworker and friend.

“Yeah,” Ayala said.

Martine had seen the two siblings interact to know the chip was on Ayala’s shoulder. “I don’t know what it’s like to live in someone’s shadow, okay?” she said, turning Ayala to face her. “But I do know it’s not her fault and you might actually enjoy getting to know her.”

The younger woman stared at Martine, taking in that suggestion. “She’s very bossy,” Ayala complained.

“Right, like someone can tell you what to do,” Martine countered, having just experienced trying to help the stubborn woman.

“Are you trying to suggest that I am …?” Ayala asked, mocking surprise, but never finished that sentence. She reached up and kissed Martine, assertively pushing her back until she was up against the cabinet of the kitchen. With the enthusiasm and energy of a twenty-five year old, Ayala hand’s pushed and covered Martine’s body. “You are so fucking hot,” Ayala announced to the blonde. Martine had never met anyone like this woman. She had been with women her own age; attracting women who were as serious as she was about life. But Ayala’s approach to things seemed laced with reckless abandon and kind of in-your-face. Maybe it was the high energy she brought to everything, but Martine liked it.

“Some…thing’s burning,” Martine gasped as she skin surrendered to the younger woman’s mouth.

“I hope it’s you,” Ayala said, but then realized Martine was right. “Oh,” she said, rushing back to turn the fire down on the stove. It took Martine a few seconds longer to compose herself. “It’s okay,” Ayala assured her as she saved the meal in time.

“Oh, good,” Martine said, taking a deep breath.

“Don’t worry,” the younger woman assured her. She started to grab plates and put the food on them.

“I have wine,” Martine suggested and Ayala asked her to bring it to the table. “You really thought of everything,” Martine said, looking at the salad and bread that was also there.

“Yes,” Ayala said, smiling at Martine. “I really think I have.”

Martine looked at Ayala, whose face seemed so calm when she smiled. This was the first time she dated someone so young. She was so different from almost everyone she knew. Except, in some small way, Sameen. But Martine was beginning to see all the differences, too. They laughed over stories and enjoyed the delicious meal.

This was the part of the date when Martine usually was the most nervous. As tough as she was on the outside, doing romantic dinners was an area she sorely lacked experience in. She was very unsure of what Ayala’s expectations were; especially when the younger woman informed her that she had ‘exactly’ what they both could enjoy.  Martine’s mind raced trying to figure out what a twenty-five year old, high strung, determined woman might have brought that she thought they would both enjoy. ‘Shit, drugs?’ Martine worried, but knew Ayala wasn’t into that. ‘Toys?’ Martine worried having been with some very robotic lovers who wanted to experience simultaneous climaxes on the second date. And those people were nowhere near as hot as Ayala.

Of all the things Martine tried to guess would be in Ayala’s hand, a DVD was not in the top ten.

“A movie?” Martine asked incredulously. She took it and looked at it.

“I remember you said you liked romantic comedies, so I thought you’d like this one,” Ayala said, sitting down on the couch. “It’s old. Have you seen it?” she asked, worried she made the wrong choice. “We can stream something…”

Martine’s demeanor would have most people guess that her first choice would be action movies.  She had only confessed liking romantic comedies once, and Ayala remembered that. “Do you like them?” she asked her guest before putting the movie on.

“Not yet, but I could try,” Ayala said sincerely.

Martine leaned over and kissed the full lips of the thoughtful woman. “You are… so sweet,” Martine said.

“Okay, but don’t tell anyone and by anyone, you know who I mean,” Ayala said, afraid she’d never live down her sibling’s teasing.

“Oh, your sister probably has a very long romantic streak,” Martine said, unsure of those words.

“Right,” Ayala said, sitting next to Martine as the movie started.

* * *

Across town, Root and Sameen were arriving for the bowling match. Sameen tried so hard not to complain about Root accepting this insane offer to cover for John and Martine. But in her heart, she knew Reese had done it on purpose. She even texted him that news with the promise to pay him back, but his phone was turned off. If there was anything that could make this event worse, it would be someone teasing her about it.

“Oh, my God! Would you look at Shaw in bowling shoes! Someone, get a camera,” Fusco yelled because BEAR’s team was going up against the NYPD bowling team.

“You know, Fusco,” Shaw said, her eyes closed from his remarks, “…if you’d come into the twenty-first century, the camera would be on your phone.”

“I can’t believe Reese got you two to cover for him and blondie,” Fusco laughed. He had to hand it to John for pulling that off. “He asked you, right?” he said to Root knowing Shaw would never have agreed.

“You know, I could have died a happy woman never seeing you in a bowling shirt,” Shaw barked.

“Well, I know, I’ll die happier having seen you in one,” Fusco said and made Shaw stop in her tracks. She had never thought about that. Her head snapped up as she looked around in horror. The only thing worse than seeing the bright blue shirts with the company logo and monogramed names, was seeing someone in one of them rushing towards her.

“I got your names on them,” Janine announced because she couldn’t imagine the substitutes would want to wear the others’ shirts.

Sameen’s eyes grew wider as her assistant whipped the shirt around to show her last name emblazoned across the back. Sameen turned around quickly to Root. “Please, just shoot me now,” she begged, her face completely sincere.

Root truly believed that she could enjoy anything with Sameen by her side; even activities requiring ugly shoes and shirts. She tilted her head, pursed her lips, her eyes expressing her sympathy with her girlfriend’s discomfort. “We’ll try it and if you don’t like it, we’ll forfeit,” Root said.

“FORF…?” Shaw yelled, the word unable to actually form in her mouth. “TO THEM?” she said, looking over at Fusco and his pals in their yellow shirts. Root shrugged her shoulders. “Give me that stupid shirt,” Sameen said because she found something even more distasteful than bowling apparel – and that was losing to Fusco. “I would rather wear… that stupid BEAR shirt at work… than forf …. To them,” Sameen said, pulling her shirt off over her head and standing there in her black sleeveless t-shirt. Now, everyone’s eyes were on her.

“Look at those arms,” a member of Fusco’s team said.

“Hey! That’s Shaw, get your eyes off her,” he barked, ever protective of his friend.

“Gimmie that ball,” Shaw bellowed, even though the game had not commenced.

“First we have to pick captains,” Janine explained.

“Root is captain,” Shaw decided on her own and everyone agreed.

“Now, can I have the ball?” Sameen asked impatiently.

Things were switched around to accommodate their teammate’s request. Shaw picked up the heaviest ball on the return.

“That’s not too heavy for you, is it Shaw?” Fusco ribbed her, but when one of his buddies went to chime in on the taunt, he was promptly told not to speak to her that way. Fusco was allowed to tease, but no one else was. Of course, he was also trying to throw Sameen off her game.

“GUTTER BALL?” he said after Sameen practically threw the ball down the lane to prove it was not too heavy. “Geez, Shaw,” he said.

“What happens if I throw this at him?” she came back and asked Root sincerely.

“We forf…,” Root started to say.

“Never mind,” Shaw said, taking the ball from the return tray and concentrating. The ball flew down the lane and crashed against the pins, knocking them all down.

STRIKE!

Janine and Root both jumped up and clapped. Root expected Sameen to rub it in Fusco’s face, but it was Janine who started to trash talk the good officers of the New York Police Department.

“Try and talk badly to Shaw! Ha! That’s what you get. Strike, Baby, Strike!” she yelled.

Root was surprised, but it was Sameen who gently took the woman by her shoulders to reel her back in. “Okay, Janine, we got this. It’s just a game,” Shaw reminded her.

“Yeah! A game we’re going to win. You hear that yellow jackets?” she yelled as Sameen pulled her away.

“We may have to taze her,” Shaw whispered to Root as the overzealous player went to take her turn.

The bowling game was a charity event with all the proceeds going to the NYPD fund for families of fallen cops who had died in the line of duty. No matter who won, the money was donated to the fund.

“I thought you was one of us,” one of the cops yelled over to Shaw as Root was getting up to bowl.

Sameen had a great rapport with the cops; men and women alike; because she respected them.

“You mean a member of the team that’s going to lose?” Shaw taunted because she could give it better than she could take it.

The NYPD team was shouting over to her, trying to get her riled up, but something else had Shaw’s undivided attention. She was too busy watching Root trying to hold the ball up. “Wait,” she called out and went over to Root to show her the best way to hold the ball.

“NO FAIR,” someone yelled from the other team and Fusco told the noob to sit the hell down.

“Hold it with both hands,” Shaw instructed as she stood behind Root and put her hands on hers. “When you get to the line, throw your arm back and then forward and let go.”

Root listened closely and nodded her head. Then, when Sameen stood back, she followed her instructions and released the ball.

STRIKE!

“You’re going down, Fusco and it’s going to be ugly,” Shaw goaded him.

* * *

In the end, Shaw was right and the BEAR team won. Which meant they also had to pick up the tab at the bar afterwards.

“I asked and we can’t leave,” Root apologized to Shaw.

“Nah, it’s okay. I kinda like seeing you in uniform,” Sameen whispered, tugging on the end of the ugly team shirt.

“You do?” Root smiled and couldn’t help the list of fantasies that came into her head that included a uniform.

“To Jimmy!” one of Fusco’s fellow cops yelled and they all drank down their shots. All except Fusco, who explained to Root that the tradition was to drink a shot for any fallen officer that they knew.

“Is that a lot?” Root asked and noticed they had insisted their former NYPD consultant join them. Sameen was truly a welcomed member of their tightknit club.

“You know she can drink them _under_ the table, right?” Fusco said of their friend.

“We usually end our nights on _top_ of the table,” Root noted out loud and confusing the detective.

“Hey, you want I should go get her?” he asked, worried that he had ruined their evening. He couldn’t help but enjoy Sameen’s company.

“No, I’ll keep an eye on her,” Root said, really appreciating how devoted this man was to her lover.

“And I’ll carry her home,” Fusco said because he had seen Sameen do shots plenty of times. “Does she have her gun on her?” he asked. “Cause Shaw has a tendency to shoot her mouth _and_ her gun off when she’s drunk.”

* * *

“Anyone in the vicinity of Dekalb and Forest? Someone called in shots fired at a bowling alley. Patrol cars are stuck at an ongoing robbery,” came the message over the police scanner.

“I’m near there,” the woman said into the hand piece.

“A little below your pay grade, Detective Jackson, isn’t it?” the man on the other end asked.

“I got this,” the detective said as she made her way to the bowling alley.

“Cops on the scene. Repeat, we have officers on the scene and assure us everything is okay,” came the second message.

“Well, let’s just take a look,” the woman with the gold shield said as she got out of her car.


	82. Drunk Mind Speaks a Sober Heart

There were a few collective things that cops liked to measure themselves up against; like who could lift the most weight in the gym; who could run the fastest; and who could outdrink Sameen Shaw who seemed to have a cast iron stomach when it came to liquor. So, after the memorial portion of the evening was over, one cop raised his next glass to Sameen. “To the best consultant to the NYPD…,” he said as people joined in. “…Who is also the biggest pain in the ass.” His teasing caused a roar of laughter, including Shaw who understood this rough humor.

“You bunch are the sorriest lame ass group of cops who lost to a tech company bowling team,” she retorted.

“You know we all took pictures of you in your bowling shirt,” the banter continued and Sameen promised to shoot the person who posted it anywhere.

“Too late,” someone called out and the crowd broke out again. “To Shaw, the bowler!” and the next round was gulped down.

“Lionel,” Root said as she and Fusco sat on the outer ring of this group. “How are all these people getting home?”

“Well, I sure as hell ain’t driving them,” Fusco complained, but Root had a good point. “Hey, maybe it’s time to take Cinderella home?” he suggested, but didn’t move. He wasn’t going near Shaw.

“Maybe,” Root said and decided to at least weave through the crowd to get close to Sameen. She had been enjoying watching her girlfriend banter with her former coworkers.

A sure indicator that Sameen was feeling the effects of the shots was her surprise when Root saddled alongside her. “Oh my God, guys,” Sameen said, her breath quickening like she was seeing Root for the first time in ages; “Guys, this is Root.” Sameen’s eyes and face lit up as soon as Root was there. “This is Root, guys,” she reintroduced her girlfriend.

The entire ensemble shouted; “Awww. Hello, Root!” even though they had all said hello before. The drunken clan had their leader and they were going to listen.

“Root is my girlfriend,” Sameen gushed in an uncharacteristic moment of emotion, never once taking her eyes off of the taller woman.

“Hey guys, Shaw’s in love,” the teasing continued. “Oh behalf of the women and men of the NYPD,” shouted one guy at the end of the bar, “Our heartfelt condolences to you, Root.”

“Who said that?” Fusco yelled and his fellow inebriated officers laughed at how protective he was. He could tell from Sameen’s sudden gush of unadulterated emotion that she was gone.

Shaw was ignoring all of this while she leaned in and kissed Root’s lips, staring at them when the kiss broke. “How did I ever get so lucky to find you?” she said in a whisper as the crowd turned their attention to Fusco.

“You say the sweetest things,” Root said, kissing the liquor laced lips of her very hot girlfriend. “Let’s get out of here.”

And Sameen would have left, if the crowd hadn’t done something to stop her.

“Hey, Shaw, did you bring a leash for your guard dog?” a cop asked of Fusco, who had pushed his way through the crowd, and was warning someone not to be disrespectful to his favorite couple.

_Shaw and Fusco had this unspoken agreement; they could torture the life out of each other, but no one else was allowed to get away with that. It was a rule that they both heavily enforced. It took a second, but Sameen realized the crowd had turned its communal attention to teasing Fusco. He was outnumbered; and Sameen was going to even things up._

“Enough with the remarks,” he warned a couple of people. “That’s her girlfriend with her. Show some respect,” he barked.

They showed their respect by rotating their teasing to Fusco. “Are you jealous, Fusco?” one of the asked.

Shaw may not have been able to hear everything over the raucous crowd, but she sensed it. “I gotta take care of this,” she said so close to Root’s mouth, that Root could feel her breath on her lips.

“Okay,” Root said smiling.

Shaw first tried to take control of the crowd by shouting. “Okay, fellas and ladies, you’ve had your fun,” but no one could hear her. “Hey! I’m not kidding here,” she warned, standing on the bar’s foot railing. That, unfortunately, only made her all of five foot five inches.

So, Root tried.

“EVERYONE PLEASE?” she shouted politely, but the group was so busy kidding Fusco, they ignored her.

Root tried one more time, but Fusco was getting heated and now they were explaining that they were ‘just’ kidding him. In truth, they all respected Fusco, but he was an easy target being the only sober cop.

Shaw could barely stand them teasing Fusco, but she would not tolerate them disrespecting Root. So, she leaned over and asked the bartender what was above the bar. “The roof?” he answered as she reached behind her for her weapon.

Nothing got police attention like a shooting a gun in the air. Still, she thought, discharging your weapon to gain a crowd’s attention is a no-no.

BLAST!

Everyone ducked; put their hand on their service weapon, and looked around. Except two people - who were standing straight up – the person who fired the gun and the person still looking for hers.

“Root?” she said turning around to see the weapon in Root’s hand.

“I knew you were going to do that, so I did it for you,” Root said and it truly made sense to the genius at the time. She was afraid in her inebriated state; Sameen would discharge the weapon carelessly. She could never tell her that, of course. “I knew you wanted their attention.”

“What the hell, Root,” Sameen said, trying to sober up quickly. She immediately decided she had to take credit for the incident. She grabbed the gun from Root.  “Do I have your attention, now?” Shaw said to the crowd who, once they realized no one was in danger, found the whole thing funny.

“Nice shot, Shaw,” someone called out because she was holding the gun.

“Yeah, well… stop whatever it is you’re doing,” she commanded because she forgot what she was going to say. Then turning to Root, she whispered; “You can’t do that. Hell, I can’t do that,” Shaw said, some semblance of sanity returning.

“Oh, geez,” Fusco said because he had some idea of how bad Sameen was right now. “You guys really did it this time,” he said to his fellow officers.

“Sorry, Fusco,” a few of them said because they didn’t want the wrath of that woman when she sobered up.

“I gotta get them outta here,” Fusco said.

“Hey, someone called 911,” one of the cops told Fusco.

“Holy crap! Call them back, tell them everything is okay. Tell them cops are on the scene,” Fusco shouted, but it was too late.

“You did that for me?” Shaw was saying to Root. “No one’s ever shot a ceiling for me before.”

“Can I take you home now?” Root asked because it was time to go.

“This is not good, Cocoa Puffs, ” he said to Root. “Someone called the cops.”

“Aren’t _you_ all cops?” Root asked, hoping that would help.

“We gotta get her out of here,” Fusco said because he thought it was Shaw who discharged the weapon.

“Hey! Fusco!” Shaw said because in her state, she kept thinking she was meeting people for the first time. “Don’t let them kid you. You tell me and I will…,” she said, swaying as she tried to figure out what she would do. “…take care of it.”

“Thanks, Maybelline. Let’s go,” Lionel said and the trio was about to leave when… Detective Jackson seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Holy shit!” Fusco said, his mind racing to come up with something. He was not sure he could sweet talk this woman again.

* * *

The woman had a reputation and it preceded her well into the crowd. Murmurs and whispers erupted as the throng all stepped out of her way. There wasn’t one cop there who wanted to mess with this woman. Except Fusco, who was about to approach her and see if he could possible get her to look the other way on this.

“Detective Jackson!” Fusco said as if her were greeting her on the street. “Funny seeing you here.”

“Imagine my surprise, Detective Fusco,” the woman said, staring at the crowd.

“We were just having some fun after the bowling tournament. You know for the victim’s families fund. Join us in a toast,” he said and the woman looked at the group who already looked toasted. “Just letting off some steam,” Fusco smiled and truly believed he might actually be connecting with the woman.

He was wrong.

The cops were already collecting money to entice the bartender to … forget the incident. Yes, bribery – but for one of their own.

“We got a call of a shot going off,” Detective Jackson said and looked around. It was hard to tell if anyone was nervous or just close to throwing up.

“A shot?” Fusco said and looked around. “They heard that? In a bowling alley?” he asked because of the loud noise of balls hitting pins outside the bar area.

“That’s what they said. But then, someone called and said everything was okay,” she said and the cop who called shoved his phone back in his pocket.

Detective Jackson was pretty certain the group of Blue Bloods was going to deny everything and stick to their guns about the incident. “I can test for gunpowder residue on the whole crowd,” she announced and it worked.

“I did it!” came the voice of someone she was not expecting to see. Sameen came from behind Fusco’s large frame.

“Ms. Shaw?” Detective Jackson said, her voice genuinely surprised. “Hiding behind Detective Fusco again?”

“Look, we were just having a friendly game against Shaw’s company team, you know, for the victim’s family fund,” Fusco repeated to make sure the woman knew of their good deed.

“Yeah, so you said,” Jackson answered. “So, Shaw, you fired a shot?” she asked.

The crowd burst out with questions and declarations that they hadn’t heard anything. It made the woman realize they were easily going to cover for Sameen.

“I’ll just take her in for questioning,” Detective Jackson said and knew that would cause a stir.

“No! I did it,” she heard and now Root stood there with her hands out in front of her, gesturing her surrender.

“Froot Loops? This is not a good idea,” Fusco whispered because he thought Root was making things worse.

“O…kay,” the policewoman said slowly.

“What the hell, Root?” Sameen shouted, stepping in front of Root and facing her. “You can’t do this. This woman is out for blood. Do you think the fact that we caught her killer that got through her fingers is going to endear us to her? She’s a bear, Root. She might be a good cop, but she is freaking hard as nails,” Sameen assessed as Root raised her hand to those delicious lips and wished they would stop moving.

“She’s something else, ain’t she?” Fusco laughed nervously about his friend. “I think the only shooting going on here is Shaw firing herself in the foot,” he joked and everyone laughed. And proving his point, Sameen spoke her mind as she turned back to the woman.

“Look, you are the last person I want to see right now,” Shaw continued her to tell the truth segment.

“Shaw, shut up,” Fusco said, but Jackson insisted he let her talk.

“I thought you agreed to stay out of Brooklyn,” Jackson reminded Sameen.

“You think I want to be here? This is the last place I want to be. You know it’s Reese’s fault that I’m here. And he dates a detective. He made up some lame ass excuse to get me and Root to fill in for them,” Shaw said and asked Fusco to call Reese, but he thought her one phone call might be better spent on one of Root’s fancy lawyers.

“Detective, as you can see, everyone here has been participating in the memorial toast,” Root pointed out, “…except Detective Fusco and myself. So, you can see….” Root said and meant – ‘ _who you should believe_.’

“What does that mean?” Shaw barked because she understood Root-ese. “Don’t listen to her. I shot the gun and if you’re going to let anyone off for that, it should be me.”

“What makes you think I’d ever entertain letting you off,” Jackson asked and now the crowd moved a little farther back.

“Exactly, so you have to take me in,” Root said because as bad as it would be for her to be charged with the offense, it would be worse for Sameen who was drunk.

“She’s taking you in over my dead body,” Shaw said to Root.

“Not a good time to have a lovers’ quarrel, Shaw,” Fusco said without moving his lips. “Maybe it was a car backfiring?” he suggested.

Every time this woman was around these three, something made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She looked at Root and then at Shaw and knew they were thick as thieves when it came to trouble. “Can I see your weapon, Ms. Shaw?” she asked as she put on evidence gloves.

Sameen made sure she smeared her hands all over it, and thereby, covering Root’s fingerprints, before handing it to her.

“This gun was fired,” she said to Fusco.

“Geez, is that right?” he said and looked around at everyone who shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders.

“I used it, so you have to take me,” Root said definitively.

“That’s bullshit. She’s not going. Take me and I’ll explain the whole thing,” Shaw said.

“I’m going because I will call my lawyer,” Root said and closed her right eye very slowly.

“What is she doing?” the detective asked as she observed Root’s exaggerated action.

“She’s trying to wink,” Shaw explained. “The woman can’t even wink; you’re going to take her word that she can fire a gun? Come on, let’s go,” Sameen said, pulling on the woman’s jacket.

The woman didn’t budge and Sameen jerked backwards. “I’m putting your gun in an evidence bag,” she announced and took one out of her jacket pocket.

“Okay, you’ll see my fingerprints are on there,” Root announced and tried once more to put her hands out.

“Would you stop?” Sameen said, pushing her hands down. She turned to the cop. “Her prints are not on there,” she assured her.

“I bet,” the detective noted.

Fusco determined that if Jackson was giving the duo enough rope to hang themselves, they had done that with plenty left over.

“How about I bring them down tomorrow,” Lionel tried, hoping to catch a break.

“I think I’d like to hear the story tonight,” Jackson said, smiling.

“Good!” Sameen said, thinking the woman had come to her senses. “You take Root home, but not in my car,” she ordered Lionel.

“Sweetie,” Root said, more pressing this time, “…I think it’s better if the one who fired the gun goes and you can stay here with Lionel and I’ll see you later.”

Shaw looked at Root as if she had just suggested they all set their clothes on fire. “That is the stupidest idea you have ever had.”

Root tried calmly to point out that she was the guilty party, but Shaw thought she stood a better chance of catching any favor this woman might show them. The two women were talking over each other and giving the detective a headache.

“You think it’s easy?” Fusco couldn’t help but ask her.

* * *

While Shaw was busy using her hands to explain how crazy Root’s idea was, the woman simply grabbed her hands and handcuffed them. Then, when Shaw was satisfied that she was the chosen one, Jackson slapped cuffs on Root.

Which made Sameen go nuts.

“Get those off her!” she yelled to a stone faced arresting officer. “If you … so help me, Jackson!” Shaw yelled, suddenly believing they were on a surname basis. “Don’t touch her,” the out of control over protective woman said and swirled around to Fusco… after he grabbed her and made her face him.

“Go quietly,” he suggested. “I’ll come get you two.”

Sameen’s alcohol level was not falling fast enough for her to configure a plan. “Give me a paperclip,” she said and when Lionel hesitated she bared her teeth at him. He got one from the bartender and slipped it in her hand.

By that time, Detective Jackson was asking the couple to please come out to her car quietly. “I’ll go,” Sameen said, unable to comprehend the word quiet, “…but you’re wasting your time with taking Root. She’ll end up suing you for false arrest and you’ll be embarrassed and lose your pension.”

Root pursed her lips, tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Thanks, Sweetie, but I think we’re both going.”

* * *

As soon as the couple sat in the back seat, the Detective explained that she was really hoping they would just go to the station with her so they could figure this all out. “Fine!” Sameen rolled her eyes as Root played with her phone in her pocket.

The woman pulled out into traffic for the short ride to the police station. “Look!” Sameen said, having freed her hands with the paperclip; she now pushed her arms over the front seat to appeal to the woman.

“Did you just get out of those cuffs? Do you know that can be construed as resisting arrest?” the woman shouted from the driver’s seat.

Her valid points were lost on Shaw who was trying to protect her girlfriend. “Resist? I’ve been begging you to take me in. But no! You had to take Root, too. Let her go and I’ll go in peacefully.”

“Oh, you’re going in, Shaw; peacefully or not!” the cop barked.

“See? This is what I get for doing a good deed,” Shaw lamented and sat back with her arms crossed.

“Please just sit back so I can take you both in for questioning,” the detective asked patiently.

“I don’t feel so good,” Shaw said because the ride was bumpy. “Do you even have shocks in this car?”

“Shaw, if you throw up in my car, I will personally see to it that you clean it out yourself,” the driver shouted.

“Deep breaths, Sweetie,” Root said, worried that Sameen was sick.

* * *

Minutes later, the detective pulled into a parking space and opened the back door. “Let’s go, Ladies,” she said and Shaw got out and handed her back her cuffs smugly. “You are just begging me to do something, aren’t you Shaw?” she asked.

“Yes, I am!” Sameen answered, thinking the woman was finally catching on.

The woman looked over at Root who smiled like they were all going out to dinner. “I swear when this is done, I am getting a restraining order against you two on behalf of every resident of Brooklyn.” She uncuffed Root and jerked her head for both of them to go into the station. In all her years as a cop, she never met anyone like these two.

The precinct was filled to capacity that night and there were several suspects sitting there waiting to be booked.

“Full house,” the desk sergeant said and waved to Sameen. Jackson followed them in and marched them into a conference room, instead of an interrogation room. She didn’t want anyone seeing what was going on.

“Look, you two, I can’t allow a citizen to fire off their weapon in a public place. That’s insane,” the detective noted. “And I can’t allow someone to obstruct justice by pretending they did something they didn’t do.”

Root and Shaw both believed they had the solution, so they began simultaneously explaining it to the woman who wished she could fire her own gun to make them shut up. The woman got up, retrieved the detection kit, donned a new set of gloves and came back to the table. “Open your hands,” she said to Root and Sameen protested that she was wasting her time. Within seconds, the kit revealed the residue on Root’s hands.

“Now, if I were a betting woman, I’d say your hands would not show residue, Shaw, because on your worst day, I can’t believe the two of you would shoot the same gun, one after the other,” Jackson theorized.

“You got me,” Root said, shrugging her shoulders.

“She don’t _got_ you,” Shaw barked from the other side of the table. “Look, it’s my gun. Let her go and I’ll … I’ll never step foot in Brooklyn again.”

“Oh good, now we’re going to play _Let’s Make a Deal_ – criminal style,” the woman shook her head. At the very least, she wanted to take advantage of this duo’s weaknesses to impress upon them what they had done wrong. “I’m booking both of you. You, for firing a weapon,” she said to Root and then turned to Shaw. “And you because you are such a pain in my ass.”

“I don’t think you can do that,” Shaw said truthfully. “Or Fusco would have tried.”

“He’s not me,” Jackson barked back.

“You can’t book her. You can’t put her in a cell. She’s … not cell material,” Shaw tried and had trouble making sense. “Look at her. They’ll eat her up in there and it’s not going to happen. So, either let her go or you’ll have to put me in there with her.”

“Oh, I can arrange that,” Jackson said and really wanted to.

“Do I get a phone call?” Root asked and Shaw demanded that Root be given her one phone call. Root had her phone out and was pressing buttons, but then she shrugged her shoulders and explained her lawyer wasn’t there. “I can’t seem to reach…,” and she paused to make sure Shaw was listening to her. “ _Veronica Sinclair._ ”

Shaw thought that was a familiar sounding name. “Isn’t that the name…,” Shaw was asking and about to say and Root gently kicked her under the table. “Ouch!” Sameen said, not catching on.

The thing that really confounded the good detective was that whenever she saw these two, something in her gut told her they were up to something. But sitting there in front of her, right now, she was having trouble figuring out what to do with them.  
“I’m booking you on a misdemeanor and you …,” she said turning to Shaw. “I’m putting you in the cell because I can’t think of a more fitting punishment for all the other suspects than to have to listen to you complain,” Jackson said. “One more word, Shaw, and I will find something to charge you with.”

One-more-word.

“She did it because I was going to. Tell her Root,” Shaw said, somehow thinking implicating herself would make this woman happy.

“I think we’ve said enough,” Root smiled.

“For the love of God,” the detective pleaded with Shaw, “…listen to her.”

Then, she stood up and was about to see how long the wait would be to book someone on a misdemeanor charge when the weirdest thing happened.

All the power to the police station suddenly went out.


	83. Energy Source

The only lights that shone inside the precinct were the emergency lights. There was commotion outside the room as Detective Jackson stood up. “Can I trust you two to just sit here while I find out what’s going on?” she asked both women.

“Sure. Can I trust you to get me a good cup of coffee?” Shaw asked and when she saw the woman’s expression, she waved her off like it was okay. “God, that woman gives me a headache,” she moaned, attributing her impending hangover on the woman. “Okay, listen,” she said leaning over the table. “Let’s just get our stories straight.”

Shaw saw the sudden blackout as a gift of divine intervention to give them more time.

Root knew better.

“Are you listening?” Shaw asked as Root played with her phone.

“Sorry, Sweetie, I have to do a couple of things. Now, when our friend comes back in, remind her what a savvy techie I am, and that you know how to keep suspects quiet even without your gun,” Root instructed.

“What?” Shaw asked, but the cop returned.

“Well, all hell is breaking loose out there,” Jackson announced, thinking these two were low on the danger list.

Root looked over at Shaw, who slowly read her expression to do as she just instructed.

“She’s doing that thing again with her eye,” Jackson said when she saw Root’s attempted wink.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, finally getting it. “We’re working on it. Look, Root is the best tech geniuse, so she might be able to help you with, you know, whatever is causing your glitch out there,” Shaw said in an inquisitive tone because she was really asking Root if that’s what she wanted her to say.

“Yes, I could,” Root affirmed.

“And I could…,” Shaw hesitated because what she really wanted to do was sleep. “… keep an eye on anyone not in a cell.”

“You want me to allow two people I brought here in cuffs, to help us out in a blackout?” Jackson asked incredulously.

“I really am very good,” Root smiled. There was something so innocent about this woman’s expression, that Jackson found herself believing her.

“Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere until I get my car, or throw up, whichever comes first,” Shaw said.

The yelling outside was what got Jackson to agree. “Fine, but Shaw, if you cause any more trouble out there, I will lock you up.”

“Me?” Shaw barked. “Why do you think I will cause trouble? Why does she think I would cause trouble?” Shaw asked Root when Jackson refused to answer.

“She’s under pressure,” Root said, dismissing any validity in the woman’s claim. “This won’t take long,” Root whispered to Sameen as they got up to go with the detective.

* * *

Jackson led them outside and grabbed the IT guy and told him Root offered to help. “You got Samantha Groves?” he said, astonished that such an esteemed techie was there to assist.

“Sarge, where can Shaw help out?” Jackson asked and he said they needed someone to sit with the suspects.

Before Jackson let Shaw walk away, she put her hand out. “I don’t want you teaching them how to get out of those cuffs,” she said smiling and even in the dimly lit room, Shaw could see her smirk. Sameen handed her the metal clip and walked off, shaking her head.

* * *

When Sameen reached the long bench of suspects in cuffs, one of them looked at her shirt and commented; “Even in this darkness, I can see that that is one ugly ass shirt.”

Sameen turned to see if Jackson was appreciating what she was putting up with, but apparently the woman had other things to attend to. “You think I wanted to wear this?” Shaw barked.

“Why don’t you just take it off?” another suggested.

“Okay, look,” Sameen said to the row of men who were getting antsy. “I have had one bitch of a night, so please don’t get any crazy ideas about making it worse. I am not in the mood to teach any of you a lesson.”

The largest of the men who happen to be there, stood up, towering over the short woman who had just issued that warning, in an obvious show of how much bigger he was. “What are you in for?” she asked, looking all the way up.

“Robbery,” he answered in a deep voice.

“Don’t make me add resisting arrest or your sentence will only be longer,” she warned.

Even restrained, he thought he could take her, which was his first mistake. He lunged at Sameen, but forgot that her lack of height gave her a clear shot for his throat. She struck his Adam’s apple in his neck and sent him reeling backwards.

“Now you’re just pissing me off,” Shaw said to him and the rest of the line sat back.

* * *

Within minutes, Root had the entire grid back. Lights, computers, cameras, and all things mechanical were back online. “How did you do that?” the IT guy asked because it seemed Root was paying more attention to her phone than the computer running on the auxiliary line.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Root smiled in a friendly manner. “New app,” she added as she walked to find Sameen.

For the next few minutes, Sameen and Root helped the precinct get back to order. It was enough time for Fusco to get there to pick them up.

“For a guardian angel, you’re a bit late to the party,” Shaw said as soon as he got there.

“She let you go?” he asked when she saw the two of them sitting there, sipping on the worst coffee Sameen ever tasted.

“I got charm, Fusco,” Shaw replied.

“What you have…,” Detective Jackson corrected her, “…is a girlfriend who is a tech whiz that helped us from going into total darkness. That backup generator only has thirty minutes of juice.” Then she turned to Root. “Ms. Groves, you know better than to do what you did tonight. I hope I have your word that you will never do that again.”

“Camp Fire Girl promise,” Root said, thinking she would just never be in that bowling alley again.

“So, are we good here?” Fusco asked tentatively, not wanting to remind his fellow detective of anything.

“I will never be good when I share the same space as these two. But, they were helpful, so I’m going to take that into account here,” the woman said.

“Great, that’s great,” Lionel said and thanked the woman for her patience and understanding.

“I have a very limited amount,” she reminded Lionel.

“You’re telling me,” Shaw said to the floor, but could be heard. Lionel laughed over her and grabbed her by the hand. “Wait!” Shaw said, because she figured the detective probably wanted to thank them. “You gotta admit, we really helped you, didn’t we?”

“I believe I just said that,” Detective Jackson said, thinking the score was more than even.

“So, where’s my gun?” Shaw asked, remembering the woman had taken it for evidence.

“I’m going to submit it for further testing, because the way I figure it, it may have gone off accidentally. I wouldn’t want you handling a gun that might, oh I don’t know,” the detective said slowly to give Sameen a chance to catch on, “…shoot you in the foot?”

“What?” Shaw said and Lionel and Root caught her meaning.

“Thank you, Detective Jackson,” Root said and waved her fingers to say goodbye.

“There is nothing wrong with my gun,” Shaw said to Fusco because she wasn’t completely rational just yet.

“Come on, Annie Oakley,” Fusco said and pulled her toward the car. “On the bright side, you still got perfect aim with your mouth.”

“See?” Sameen said, turning to Root. “I don’t know why I put up with him.”

“Well, perhaps because he’s our ride?” Root pointed out.

“I’m hungry,” Shaw said, because everything else had been settled.

“Thank you,” Root said, speaking into her phone.

“Who is she talking to?” Fusco asked Sameen.

Even in her intoxicated state, Sameen suspected that Root had something to do with the outage. “Her new pet,” Shaw said.

“She’s got a new pet? How is Bear dealing with that? That’s not going to go over big. You have to consider the older pet in these decisions,” Fusco lectured and made Sameen’s head throb with the sound of his voice.

She reached over and grabbed him by the collar. “Her Artificial Intelligence robo friend. The one my mother gave her?”

“Ohh, yeah,” Fusco said, not quite understanding it, but then, the man found his iPhone challenging.

The three got into Fusco’s car and drove off. Fusco warned Shaw not to get sick in his car and she warned him to stop talking to her, or she would.

Root listened as she looked at her phone. ‘ _There was a ninety-two percent chance that Detective Jackson was going to charge you with a misdemeanor_ ,’ the text message from the machine read.

“Thank you,” Root responded.

‘ _And a ninety-nine percent probability that that the man Sameen incapacitated was planning on grabbing an officer’s gun and shooting Detective Jackson when she got in the way_.’

That surprised Root. “How can you tell that?” she asked.

The machine listed the variables that she was aware of once she had access to the precincts computers, after disabling the power sources. The suspect was brought in on a robbery charge, but had many outstanding warrants. He mentioned all of this to the guy next to him. He kept watching the police walking past him. The machine had access to the cameras,  and noted that his eyes were fixed on the holsters of the officers who passed in front of him. The machine deduced he was going to try to disarm the next cop who came near him and shoot his way out of the precinct. Given that Detective Jackson was almost certain to charge Root with something; she would have been walking in the vicinity of the man at the time of his attempted escape. ‘

 _Your actions saved her life_ ,’ the machine concluded.

* * *

Fusco decided the best way to keep Shaw from getting sick was to take her mind off things. “Hey, you know you spent the night in a bowling shirt?” he said as they were driving into the city.

“I am burning this when I get home,” Shaw said, turning to Root.

“Don’t worry, Shaw. Your picture is all over the internet,” he assured her.

This really took Shaw’s mind off being sick as she promised to hunt down every single person who posted her picture. Root tilted her head and smiled at her. “Oh, yeah,” Shaw said because she could read Root’s expression that she could find any copy of that picture and remove it.

Root thanked Fusco for taking them home and he promised to get their car back to them.

* * *

Sameen was feeling less well by the minute. Root walked her into the apartment and took her right upstairs. She undressed her and put her into bed, giving her plenty of water to drink to hedge off the hangover.

“I never used to get sick, but then I was an Axis II Personality and could handle my liquor,” Shaw decided.

“And now?” Root asked as she looked down at Sameen.

“Now, I’m in love,” Shaw said nonchalantly. The statement made Root’s heart burst with emotion.

“You sleep and I’ll be right here,” Root said, tucking her in and kissing her forehead.

Shaw’s hand shot up from beneath the blanket and grabbed Root’s. “Promise?” she said in a rare moment of expressing her need.

“Always,” Root said and slid in bed next to her. She slowly rubbed Sameen’s back until her lids couldn’t open anymore to check that Root was there.

* * *

Shaw did sleep through the night, mostly because Root was right there every time she opened her eyes. She made Sameen sip water to keep her hydrated and keep the hangover effects at bay. She slept well, but felt a little groggy when she tried to open her eyes the next morning. She looked up and all she could see was someone standing there in a white uniform. She was certain it was Root.

“Are you … my nurse?” Shaw asked, her eyes fluttering and then closing.

“Why, yes, I am,” Root said and Shaw smiled that her remark about liking Root in a uniform was coming full circle now.

“I knew bowling was bad for my health, but I had no idea it would send me to the hospital,” Shaw said, playing her part.

“Oh, you’re not in the hospital,” Root assured her patient. “I’m a private duty nurse,” she whispered in Shaw’s ear, making her shiver from the warmth of her breath. “Everything I do is in private,” Root explained, putting her own spin on things.

“Well, what is it you’re going to do?” Shaw asked, still keeping her eyes closed because the sunlight was hurting her eyes.

“Well, they told me that you were in jail last night,” Root said like she was reading Sameen’s chart. “So, I think we should start with a sponge bath,” she cooed slowly as she opened Sameen’s pajama top that she had put her in hours ago.

“I don’t think my insurance covers that,” Sameen said, playing right along.

“Oh,” Root said, removing Sameen’s pajama bottoms slowly. “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” she said, running her hands up Sameen’s legs and making her moan.

* * *

Shaw couldn’t explain it in medical terms, but an hour later, she was certain Root had found the perfect cure for a hangover.


	84. Follow Up Visit

Before Sameen could muster up the strength to get up out of bed, Root handed her a small piece of paper. “What’s this?” she asked, looking down and then laughing. “Really, Root?” she said, turning to look at her lover. “An…appointment for a complete checkup?”

“I noticed your heart rate was a little elevated, and I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Root explained seriously, but her eyes burst out laughing.

“I’m surprised it didn’t burst through my chest,” she laughed. “I’ll see if I can get off work,” Sameen replied and Root assured her that she was willing to perform the exam at work, if necessary.

“How is your head?” Root asked, as she leaned over and kissed it.

“It better be a quiet day at work,” Sameen said, because the hangover had whittled down to a dull headache right between her eyes. “But thank you for taking care of me.”

* * *

When Sameen pushed her plate away before it was completely void of food, the chef shot Root a very concerned look. “Bowling,” Root whispered and Isabelle let out a soft; “Oohhh.”

“My grandmother had a special cure for that, if you’re interested,” she said to Sameen.

“For bowling?” Sameen asked and the chef replied; “Not exactly.”

“Really? Hit me,” Shaw said, having tasted a couple of bad recipes in her life. The bar was about to fall lower than she ever imagined.

The chef whipped up the drink of secret ingredients in the blender and handed the glass of the thick green concoction to Sameen. She stared at it, looked at Isabelle, and then looked at Root. She simply had never refused anything the woman offered her. “Is this one of those things where the cure is worse than the ailment?” she was asking as she took the glass and waited for Isabelle to assure her it was not.

“Pretty much,” the woman said honestly just as Shaw filled her mouth and stopped.

“Swallow,” Isabelle said as if it were necessary.

Shaw shook her head no, the goop held captive in her mouth.

“Well, you can’t spit it …. Oh, look at that, you spit it right back in the glass,” Isabelle noted.

Shaw actually shuddered from the aftertaste. She couldn’t even speak as they went to the elevator because she was afraid of tasting it all over again.

* * *

Bear was waiting for the couple because he wanted to remind Root about his trophy. The last thing Sameen needed right now was the dog whining his preferences. “Could you just shut up?” she asked and he took offense; which increased the whining.

“Give him whatever he wants,” Sameen begged and Root said okay. The yelping stopped immediately.

“Do you want to come to my office and lie down?” Root asked when they got to the BEAR building.

“Maybe later,” Sameen said, thinking she could rest at her desk and at least make it appear that she was okay. “I have to get my strength back so I can strangle Reese.”

“Okay, Sweetie,” Root said, kissing her lover’s lips gently. Just the slightest hint of the chef’s ‘cure’ transferred to Root’s mouth. “God, that is awful,” she noted.

“Right?” Shaw said, happy for the vindication. When the elevator door closed, Shaw slowly made her way to her cubicle and promptly put her head down on her desk.

* * *

No sooner had she done so, when Janine peeked over the wall to see her boss. Seconds later, she rushed in, whispering that the ice pack would help. “Put this on your head and take these,” she said, handing Sameen two Advil and water. Overtaken with discomfort, Sameen did as she was told and even allowed the assistant to rub her shoulders because she didn’t have the strength to make her stop.

“My grandmother swore by these massages,” Janine explained as she moved her fingers up to Sameen’s temples and rubbed.

Of course, Reese would be passing at the same time as Janine was using her therapeutic touch on her boss. “Tough bowling match, Shaw?” he asked, his eyes expressing how funny he thought that was even if he lips refused.

“If someone hadn’t taken my gun as evidence, I would use it to shoot you. Then, I would wait for a call from Detective Carter to thank me,” Shaw said, turning her head only slightly to look at him. “You-owe-me.”

“She was wonderful! We won the tournament,” Janine gushed and momentarily stopped her massaging.

“Memorial toast?” John asked and Shaw thanked her assistant, but told her she didn’t mean anything disrespectful to her grandmother, but she still had her headache.

“Yes, memorial toast. And toast to everything including the air,” Shaw bellowed as Janine went off to find another cure.

“Who took your gun?” Reese asked, coming in even though he wasn’t invited.

“Long story,” Shaw said and put the ice pack back on her head.

The last thing she needed was more company. But when your friend figures out a way to get your car that you left in Brooklyn, he comes upstairs to give you the key.

“Geez, Shaw; you look like hell,” Fusco said, entering the small space.

“You take her gun?” John naturally asked Lionel, thinking he might have done it as a precaution.

“Nah, Detective Jackson did when Captain Crunch shot it off at the bar,” Lionel explained, jingling the keys.

“I felt so much better this morning,” Shaw decided. “What the hell happened to make it come back?”

“Well, what were you doing that made you feel better?” Fusco inquired.

“I was…,” Shaw said remembering back to Root’s tender touch. “Not this!”

“Oohhh,” Fusco said, getting it from just that little bit. “My grandmother used to say the cure was a hair from the dog that bit you, and from the looks of you, that dog was bigger than Bear,” he laughed.

“What is it with everyone and their grandmothers?” Shaw asked, holding her head.

“Mine used to say the best cure was prevention,” Reese shared.

“Why am I not surprised?” Shaw asked Reese who stood there remembering the woman fondly that he never mentioned.

“Oh,” Root said, walking into the little group. “I see everyone is adding their remedies. Has anyone mentioned greasy food?”

Shaw was pretty sure when she looked up, there was a white light shining directly down on Root and she had big, white wings. “Really?” she asked, because that was the only solution that sounded appetizing to her.

“It’s worth a try,” Root said and offered to go to breakfast if Shaw felt up to it.

Sameen shot up in her seat and closed her eyes, to take inventory on how bad her headache was. It seemed to lessen as soon as Root appeared. “I’m feeling good,” she said.

“Must have been our sparkling presence,” Fusco teased.

“Yeah, you sparkle,” Sameen said, getting up to go with Root.

“Don’t invite me,” Fusco shouted after them. “I came all the way here with your car, but that’s okay, I’m not hungry,” he bellowed.

“Want to get breakfast, Lionel?” Reese asked.

“I could go for some,” Lionel said, thanking his friend.

* * *

Shaw was amazed at how the mere presence of her girlfriend was enough to make her physically feel better. “You should…(chomp, chomp)…bottle some of you,” she teased as she ate the prescribed fatty foods.

“I think you just need TLC,” Root said, sliding her finger up Shaw’s arm. “Tender…loving…coitus.”

Leave it to Root to have her own interpretation of the acronym.

And leave it to Shaw to choke when she heard it. “Root!” she said, slowly looking around to make sure no one heard that.

“I think they know… we’re doing it,” Root teased as Sameen stared back at her, expressionless.

“Doing what?” Lionel asked as he and Reese approached the table. “Can we at least join you?”

“Aren’t there murders to solve?” Shaw asked.

“I took the day off. You know, so I could go all the way back to Brooklyn; the banned borough, to help a friend get her car back. Is it her car?” he reminded Shaw and asked Root.

“Only if she wants it,” Root smiled.

Sameen noticed that it was something in Root’s gaze and touch that alleviated all the pain she felt. She decided to test it. “Yeah, sit down,” she said to both men. She wanted to see if Root’s presence could ward off the annoying company.

“Thank you, Lionel; we appreciate it,” Root said politely. She knew how devoted this man was to the woman who only thanked him under duress.

“Don’t encourage him. He’ll keep coming around,” Shaw said; squinting her eyes at him in a smirk.

And then, as if the table wasn’t crowded enough, Martine saw her friends and asked to join. “Hey, I heard we won last night,” she said as her opening line.

“Really?” Shaw quipped. “ _We_?”

“Well, I meant the team did,” Martine quickly corrected herself. “You guys were great to cover for us.”

“ _Cover for you_ is what someone does when you run to the bathroom and they sit at your desk in case your phone rings,” Shaw explained, feeling like her old self again. “What we did was…,” Sameen was about to continue when she saw the expression on Root’s face. It took her a second to read it because Root wasn’t really aware of putting the message out there. It simply told Sameen not everything had to be tit for tat. “Yeah, we covered,” she said instead.

“Great job,” Martine said back and thanked them again.

“What was your excuse for missing out on the bowling event of the year?” Shaw inquired.

“Me?” Martine said and pulled back in her chair as if it was more an inquisition and not a simple question. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I was watching a movie.”

“Yeah?” Lionel said. “Anything good?”

“It was old. Before your time,” Martine answered quickly.

“Nothing is before his time,” Shaw smiled. She noticed that Root smiled and listened attentively, but the whole time, was touching her leg with her foot. It was if she was infusing Sameen with something that renewed her energy and calmness.

Martine didn’t want to say the name of the movie or how much she enjoyed it or how sweet it was that her new girlfriend had thought of it on her own. So, instead she said; “I hear your mother is moving to Connecticut this weekend.”

“What?” Shaw asked, because she knew her mother was looking, but had no idea that she had found something so quickly.

“Oh, I thought you knew,” Martine said and looked at Root – her eyes asking if the CEO could possible clean up the mess she just made. Root got it immediately.

“Well, we have been busy saving the world,” she teased, and looked right at Shaw.

“I need to go visit her,” Shaw said, throwing down the napkin after she was done eating.

“I’m sorry,” Martine mouthed to Root, but she shook her head, assuring her it would be okay.

“What is the point of having a sister if she can’t keep you up to date?” Shaw asked annoyed.

* * *

Shaw stood up and announced she was going to see her mother. Root, of course, said she would go with her. John said they’d hold off the presentation of the trophy ceremony for winning the bowling game. Which reminded Root she needed to get Bear a trophy. This, in turn, caused Shaw to comment that the dog was spoiled beyond measure. That made Lionel laugh out loud, considering who was saying that. Then Reese, in turn, said he would protect the detective if Shaw went for him.

Shaw marched, albeit slowly, to the elevator with Root right by her side. “This woman thinks she can waltz in and out of my life, Root,” Shaw said, pushing the elevator button repeatedly.

“Maybe she was planning on telling us. We really have been busy righting some wrongs lately,” Root pointed out. “The doctor, Raphael’s murderer, the crazy doctor stalking Dr. Campbell, and _saving_ Detective Jackson,” she listed.

“Saving Detective Jackson; when did we do that?” Shaw asked, getting into the elevator.

“We’ll talk on the way to your mother’s,” Root assured her.


	85. Gravitational Pull

Root explained how she asked the machine to help them at the precinct last night.  The machine gained access to the power grid and shut it down, thereby giving her and Shaw an opportunity to help Jackson out.

“Couldn’t we just bring donuts next time instead of all the theatrics?” Shaw asked.

“Well, as it turns out,” Root explained, “the suspect you were watching; tall guy with the attitude; was going to attempt to take a gun off a passing officer. The machine then predicted the chances of Detective Jackson being in the way when he shot his way out of the station."

“And you’re buying all this?” Shaw asked with her usual amount of suspicion.

“It’s mathematics, Sameen,” Root explained.

“It’s playing you, Root; to impress you so you won’t pull it apart and make three hundred video game consoles,” Shaw surmised.

“I don’t think it knows how to play me,” Root said, trying to explain her side.

“Really? Well, I think you’re all-knowing computer still has its strings being pulled by the woman I’m about to go see,” Shaw said, because she was certain all her problems in the universe were connected.

“But Azar said…,” Root thought out loud and Shaw shot her such a look that she didn’t bother to complete the thought. “How are you feeling?”

“I swear, Root, as soon as I left you, I felt terrible again, but that might have been because Reese and Fusco were there. But as soon as you came back, I felt better,” Shaw reported.

“Well then,” Root said, putting her hand on Shaw’s thigh,”…I guess you better keep me around.”

“You know I’m driving, right?” the driver said, not wanting to lose her concentration.

“You missed the turn, no?” Root said when they past the avenue to go east.

“We have one stop to make,” Shaw said and Root realized that one stop was in Brooklyn. She was already figuring out what Shaw’s motive was.

“Sweetie, I don’t think we can tell Detective Jackson we saved her life,” Root pondered.

“Why not?” Shaw asked, thinking that was a shoe-in to get her gun back.

“Well, for one thing, she might want to know _how_ we came to that conclusion,” Root pointed out.

“So, if you’re right and it’s really the machine acting out of the kindness of its …,” she started and Root corrected her. “... _HER_ heart, we don’t get bragging rights for saving her?”

“No, we don’t,” Root decided.

“Well then, how am I going to get her to give me my gun back?” Shaw pressed because if Root was going to take away the ace up her sleeve, surely she had a consolation prize.

“Your charm,” Root smiled and put her hand back on Sameen’s leg because it was hard for her not to touch her. “Although….,” she said haltingly.

“You think I’m pushing my luck with her,” Shaw completed Root’s thought; something she was getting better at doing.

“A little,” Root said, her tone apologetic.

“Fine!” Shaw said, rolling her eyes and turning in the direction of her mother’s suite at the hotel.

* * *

Over in Brooklyn, behind a mound of paperwork and emptied cups of stale coffee, Detective Jackson sat trying to write up everything that happened last night. In her top drawer sat the evidence bag with Sameen’s gun. She found herself looking up whenever someone opened the door to the pit; as if she were expecting someone. Was she … hoping to see the two women who drove her insane? And yet, made her job more interesting? Nahhhhhh.

“Anything for evidence?” the cop who collected such material asked.

She went to put her hand on the desk drawer, but changed her mind. “No, nothing here,” she said.

Maybe the two finally listened and wouldn’t return to Brooklyn for a while, she thought. Then, she decided, maybe she would return Sameen’s gun herself.

They had proven to be very helpful, after all.

* * *

As was often the case, Root was unsure what Sameen’s exact plan was when they took off somewhere. “So, do you want your mother to go to Connecticut?” she asked.

“I want her to do what she wants,” Sameen said, pulling up to the hotel. “I just want her to tell me. She can’t come back into my life when it suits her, but leave without telling me.”

Root thought Sameen made a very good point. “You’re right,” she said getting out of the car when Sameen opened the door.

Shaw was so used to having to fight people when she expressed her ideas, that it still caught her off guard when Root agreed. “I am?” she said, liking the sound of those words.

“Yes, and I’m glad I’m going to be there when you tell her,” Root said, kissing Sameen.

Had Root not accompanied Shaw, it probably would have been a different conversation, but she was calmer when Root was next to her.

Well, as calm as Shaw could actually do.

* * *

“What a pleasant surprise,” Azar said as she greeted them at the door. The woman was always impeccably dressed, her hair swept up without a strand out of place. It was darker than Sameen’s, as were her eyes. But Root liked the woman’s smile because it was similar to her daughter’s.

“Hold onto to that thought,” Sameen said, walking in without kissing her mother.

“Hello, Samantha,” Azar said warmly. “Can I get you …”

“Listen, if we’re going to be…,” and Sameen hesitated, not having rehearsed any of this, “… _family_ , you have to start acting like it.”

Azar listened and seemed surprised, but didn’t say anything. She put her hand out for them to please sit down. “Did I do something…” she attempted to ask, but her daughter was on a role.

“You can live wherever you want; that’s up to you, but how about keeping me in the loop. I don’t want to hear it from …. where is she?” she asked, her thoughts jumping all over the place.

“Ayala?” Azar asked and turned to ask Root if she could get her anything.

“Yes, Ayala. Who else? Not my artificial intelligence adopted sibling,” Shaw said.

“She’s not home,” Azar said.

“What does that mean? She’s supposed to be here with you,” Shaw barked because she was pretty sure she told her sister her job was to watch Azar. “Do you have to go for anything today?”

“No, I don’t,” Azar assured her worried daughter.

“Is she getting you lunch?” Sameen asked because food would be the only excuse she could think of for her sibling’s absence.

“She’s not coming to Connecticut with me,” Azar pointed out.

“Why the hell not?” Shaw asked and Root made sure she inched as close to Sameen on the couch as she could because she seemed more agitated.

“She is building a life for herself here, in New York, I believe,” Azar said calmly. “And I would have told you sooner, but I was aware…,” she said slowly, looking right at Root.

“Aware? What were you aware?” Sameen asked the way the person who feels like they’re the only one who does not know what’s going on does. “What is she aware of?” she asked Root.

“The machine told you what was going on?” Root asked.

“Wait, didn’t you …what is it, your babysitter, still?” Sameen’s head twisted back and forth asking them both questions. “Didn’t you tell it not to contact her?”

“I instructed her not to initiate her own actions or I would restrict her contact with Azar,” Root said.

“She… told me you were unavailable when I went to call you about getting the house,” Azar explained.

Now Sameen had all this pent up aggravation and nowhere to put it. Her mother was explaining why she didn’t tell her. And as sometimes the case, when the superficial emotion has nowhere to go, it goes inward and we get to the deep stuff. Every time she confronted her mother, it seemed she always had an explanation.

So, Sameen’s psyche dug deeper for a question that wouldn’t be so easy to answer.

“Why her?” she asked and the anger shot though her veins. She had held it in for a very long time.

“I’m sorry?” Azar said, unable to understand that question.

Root understood it instantly. She had wondered it herself and knew, in good time, Sameen might just ask it.

“Why did you keep her while I got the all-seeing robo-nanny?” she said and regretted how needy it made her feel. “I don’t care,” she declared, “…but I’m just curious.”

Root’s heard the hurt under that anger and her heart broke to think how painful this was for Sameen. She wanted to grab her hand, but Sameen had crossed her arms, in a motion to protect herself.

“You think I abandoned you,” Azar said because that was the natural conclusion. She wasn’t defending herself, but was allowing Sameen to have her say.

“I don’t _think_ ,” Sameen said, the words piercing through her tough exterior. “I know you did.”

“After your father…,” Azar said slowly.

“I know that part,” Shaw snapped, the memory too painful right now.

“The only place it seemed I could go without a constant trail was Israel. There is such a constant military presence there, that the people following me were afraid of being detected. They watched me electronically as best they could. I established a life there, but I never once forgot where my heart was, where I wanted to be,” Azar said truthfully. “I met Ayala’s father and we married. Since there was little activity that they could decipher, they eased up on watching me. They thought I had been successful in selling the machine because I became quite wealthy. Still, when I would leave the country, someone was always taking note. So, I came here when I was certain I had a good cover, like being on the board of the hospital,” she said and her voice got small because she still regretted what happened.

“That individual has been dealt with,” Root said and Azar already knew that because he read the newspaper report of his disgraceful demise.

“And we didn’t need your precious machine to do it,” Shaw said.

“Yes, I saw that,” Azar said, but wasn’t finished. She really hadn’t answered the question fully. “Sameen, every time I stepped outside of the country, they picked up my signal and followed me, just in case. I had no way of knowing if they wouldn’t still try to go after you. It was always about your security.”

“Weren’t you worried about Ayala’s safety?” Sameen asked, her tone accusatory like a cross examiner hoping to catch the suspect in a lie.

“Her father was very smart when it came to computers and programming. He helped me develop the machine so it could calculate any danger she might be in. At eighteen, she joined the IDF and against my wishes, she stayed past her required time. She returned when her father died, and when I felt that it was safe to return here, she posed as my bodyguard.”

It was informative, but none of it soothed the hurt that an abandoned child felt deeply. “Yeah, good, glad it all worked out,” Sameen said dismissing the tale and wanting the conversation to be over.

Then, Root did what she did best – she put herself in Sameen’s shoes – and allowed her own vulnerability to show through.

“I don’t think I ever got over the feeling of not being wanted. In spite of all my achievements, I carry a part of that in my heart to this day. I know you always wanted Sameen, but imagine being on the other end of that and not knowing how much you were wanted? From my experience, that leaves a scar,” Root said sincerely.

Azar was impressed with how touching Root was with her daughter and envied her ability to soothe Sameen’s hurt.

“I fear, Sameen, the time for me to undue the hurt I caused has passed, but I will always try to make up for it,” Azar said softly.

Root had to admit, it was hard to be angry at the woman who spoke from her heart, taking responsibility for all she did. She never excused it or acted defensively.

This meant that Sameen couldn’t handle this the way she usually did – by beating the offender up. Instead, she had to sit there with her heavy emotions; afraid of drowning in them any second.

“So, that’s it? You’re off to Connecticut?” Sameen asked, trying to push everything back down.

“The hotel is closing for renovations, so I thought I would go there for the duration. Perhaps coming back here from time to time,” Azar explained. “I was going to ask you and Samantha to come up to the house…,” and she left it there to give Sameen some space.

“That’s up to Sameen,” Root immediately said.

“Yeah, we could do that,” Sameen answered. “But only normal food. Better yet, we’ll bring the chef. God knows what Ayala likes to eat.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Azar said and stood up after Sameen and Root did.

“One more thing, mother,” Sameen said before she left. “Are you controlling that machine?”

Azar actually looked surprised by the question. “No, I gave up any control over its program or functions when Samantha found its location.”

“ _Her_ location,” Root corrected the former gatekeeper.

“Truly, Sameen, I think I was minding … her… for Samantha,” Azar said, but could offer no proof of that belief.

“Where is Ayala, again?” Sameen asked, because she never got that answer.

“She stayed at her friend’s house last night,” Azar said.

“Great,” Sameen said, because that was a little too close for comfort.

Before she opened the suite door, Sameen turned back to her mother quickly… and hugged her. Then, in what was her fashion when emotions surged at her, she patted her mother’s shoulders and nodded her head in the direction of her exit. “I’m going now,” she said and walked out.

Root also hugged Azar before she left. She appreciated how hard the woman tried, if nothing else.

* * *

When Sameen got down to the lobby, it seemed her feet did not want her to go outside into the daylight. She stopped before getting to the exit. “Well, that … was…” and she couldn’t complete her thoughts as all her energy went into pushing the feelings back.

Root could see the struggle, sensed the fight going on inside her lover’s head. “Sameen?” Root said, taking both of her hands. “I will never be able to make your past different from what it was, but I promise to make your future everything you deserve and more.”

Those words were so sincere and loving, that it took Sameen’s breath away. Something, she was not comfortable with.

“Root!” Sameen said and meant – why are you doing this to me? But she couldn’t fight her own heart that was reaching out to embrace those words. “Okay,” she said instead.

“You know we’re perfect for each other,” Root said, taking Sameen’s arm and pulling her to walk.

“I’m perfect; you’re pretty good,” Sameen teased.

“Someday, you’ll agree with me,” Root said.

“Yeah, someday, Root,” Sameen answered because it seemed to fit.

But it meant more to Root. She stopped in her tracks and pulled Sameen back to face her. “So, you’re saying someday?” she asked Sameen, looking right into her eyes.

Shaw knew she was not getting the full impact of Root’s excitement just yet. “Yeah, someday, Root,” she said because – again – that seemed to be the answer Root was looking for.

Root beamed as she retook Sameen’s arm and walked outside into the bright sunshine.

Sameen wondered why – of all her jokes – the one about her someday thinking Root was as perfect as she was, was the one she found so entertaining.

Root – on the other hand, felt one day closer to their wedding.

And Root was right.


	86. How Does She Do That?

Sameen needed to get out from under all those feelings. She wasn’t sure how to express what was going on inside her, but she knew she felt gratitude. She turned to Root in the car and put her hand on her arm. “Thank you,” she said, looking at her. “For…saying… all of that. It meant a lot to me.”

Root knew ‘ _all of that_ ’ included being there with her and for speaking words that didn’t seem to flow from Sameen’s lips. Root felt abandoned, too, but she could say it – and that taught Sameen a lot. Mostly because Root wasn’t drowning - after admitting it.

She was still Root.

“You’re welcome,” Root said, smiling and touching Sameen’s hand.

“You know,” Shaw said, taking off into traffic, “…for a hot second, I almost asked her not to go.” Sameen laughed at how ludicrous that was. “Asking the mother who left me, not to go,” she said again, shaking her head.

“Sweetie?” Root said in response.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, getting annoyed that a cabbie was trying to get in her space. “Wait your turn!” she yelled at him.

“There’s a possibility your mother won’t get that house,” Root said matter-of-factly.

“What? She said she had the house,” Sameen corrected her girlfriend.

“There’s another interested party and they’re willing to pay more,” Root said.

It took Sameen a second, but she finally figured it out. “Okay, wait a minute,” she said at the red light. “Are you bidding on my mother’s house so she won’t move?” It was a reasonable assumption when your girlfriend is very rich.

“No! Did you want me to?” Root asked, wishing now she had thought of that. “Do you want her to stay?”

“You’re confusing me, Root,” Shaw said, because her energy was focused on appeasing her growling stomach.

“The machine just sent me a text…,” Root said and Shaw cut her off.

“You see that? Right there?” she pointed out and now the cabbie honked her as soon as the light changed to green. “Did you? Did you just honk? You did _not_ just honk me!” she argued with him by looking in the rear view mirror.

“You’re confusing me, Sameen,” Root said because her girlfriend often broke her stream of thought with separate conversations that she had with people not even in the car.

“I’ll crawl if I want to,” she warned the cabbie that leaned on his horn. “What? Oh, what I was saying …BEFORE I WAS INTERRUPTED …” she shouted in the mirror, but then finally the taxi turned left, “….oh.  I was saying that you get a text from a machine and you say it without so much as an ounce of surprise in your voice.”

“We communicate,” Root said truthfully.

Sameen didn’t know if she liked that. “What does that mean? She’s like a GPS system in your head? A constant warning system? ‘D _on’t eat the meatloaf, Root. It’s left over from Tuesday_ ’,” she said in a strange, deeper voice.

“She doesn’t talk like that,” Root laughed.

“Not the point,” Shaw retorted. “What does she tell you? How does she know about my mother’s house?”

“Well, I’m sure accessing the realtor’s database is child’s play for her. My guess is that she was checking on your mother. I think she’s very attached…”

“Root! You see what you’re doing there? You’re talking about a _machine_ ,” Shaw felt the need to point out, but unconsciously said the last word in a whisper.

“She could hear you if she was listening. I mean, whispering won’t help,” Root felt it necessary to update her girlfriend.

“Okay,” Shaw said, pulling up outside of the BEAR building. “Is she listening? Because I don’t want what we say going out over some wireless wave for all to hear.”

“No, she’s not,” Root assured her.

“So, she sneaks around wherever she wants to go on the internet and you’re okay with that?” Shaw asked. “I wipe my mouth on the good linen napkins and get in trouble,” she exaggerated.

“You do not,” Root laughed at Shaw’s comparison, but saw her point. “Maybe we should give her some more guidelines.”

“You think?” Shaw quipped. “And not the ones you give Bear because that dog is the most spoiled animal on this planet.”

“Are you saying I should become… a better disciplinarian?” Root asked, but her voice was syrupy now as her mind entertained the possibilities.

“Yes, that would …oh, no. I mean doggie rules,” Shaw tried, but Root’s eyes were glazing over with excitement. Root rolled her tongue over her lips slowly and bit down hard on the bottom one.  “That was fast,” Shaw noted of how quickly Root’s mind slipped. “Earth to Root?” she said and Root tried to come back from the full blown fantasy playing out in her head.

The whole exchange had thrown Root off track. But since Shaw had managed to deflect her original question about her mother moving, Root knew she needed to put her imaginings aside and consider some real solutions.

* * *

After they emerged from the car and entered the building, they agreed to meet in thirty minutes for lunch. “I can hold out that long,” Shaw said bravely, but only because she knew there was candy in her office.

“Oh, thank God,” were her exact words when she found her office empty and the trophy bowl full. She reached up and grabbed two Kit-Kats, ripping the paper off one and stuffing the entire piece in her mouth, sideways.

“Did you just put that _whole_ thing in your mouth?” came the small amazed voice behind her. Shaw turned quickly to bark at whoever had the audacity to question her eating habits, but it was Genrika.

“Maybe,” she said as she shook her head no.

“I saw Janine filling the bowl up and she said it was the third bag she put in there, but she said it kind of in a proud voice, like you were winning a contest or something,” the youth said in on breath and came in and sat down.

“I gotta get a lock,” Shaw mumbled because she just stared at Gen as that long string of words came out of her mouth. “How’s life, Kid?”

“It’s good. I got all A’s last marking period, not that it really matters because even though they tell you it’s in your permanent record, colleges will want to see what contributions you have made. You know, volunteer work, inventions, internships,” Gen said, looking around Shaw’s office.

“Well, I seriously doubt you’ll have an issue getting into college,” Sameen offered.

“I will probably go in a couple of years,” the young prodigy said.

“What? Like when you’re 16?” Shaw asked.

“Probably closer to 14,” Gen said, picking up papers to look at them.

“You’re not going to college at 14,” Shaw said authoritatively, through the chocolate and crunchy candy.

“Why not?” Gen asked, mostly because she was interested in how the older woman came to that conclusion.

“Be-cause,” Shaw said, her hand motioning that there were a lot of reasons, even if she couldn’t think of them.

“Because I’m so young and you’re worried about me being around older people and the sex and drugs?” Gen asked so casually, that it made Shaw choke on her candy. “Are you okay?” the girl asked and touched Shaw’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes,” Sameen assured her because it was really the words she was choking on, not so much the candy.

“You need to take bites; look,” Gen said, demonstrating by opening up a candy bar and pressing her teeth into it like she was teaching a monkey.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Shaw blurted out.

“ _Bites_?” Gen asked. “Ohhh, sex and drugs. You don’t….,”

“Yes!” Shaw said, looking around now for the ever present assistant that somehow couldn’t be found. “You’re not …. Harold won’t …. So, no.”

“Ooh, I see,” Genrika said because she really did understand the woman’s incomplete thoughts.  “Harold knows I’m going,” Genrika informed Sameen.

“At 14?” Shaw asked, her suspicions that he wasn’t as smart as he looked confirmed. “No, not happening.”

“But I will graduate high school at an accelerated rate and will finish in less than two years. What would have you have me do until I’m eighteen?” Gen asked.

“Be-a-kid. How about that? “ Shaw said, and the expression of how impressed she was with her own question was all over her face.

“I am a kid,” Gen countered. “But, a very smart one and I can’t waste my time, especially two years, just working here. I need to go to college, and then get my masters and a PhD and then maybe travel the world if I’m not busy inventing things.” The youth spent many a night planning out her life and no one was going to deter her; even someone she idolized.

“Okay, but then either Reese or Martine has to go with you, so you might want to forget the whole roommate process because they’re going to be with you,” Shaw said, crossing her arms.

“You’re not very good at negotiating,” the youth noted.

“I have had a tough morning, okay,” Shaw said, insulted by the remark.

“And you get easily insulted. What’s that about?” Gen asked, because she really cared.

“I’m not insulted…I…,” Sameen stammered and then she said it. “I saw my mother, okay?”

Playing the mother card was supposed to bring the – ‘ _Oh! I get it. Don’t say another word_ ,’ – response. Instead, the genius asked; “How did that go?”

“What?” Sameen asked, because adult questions were coming out of this kid’s mouth and she didn’t know how to respond.

“How did it go with your mother?” Gen repeated, but decided to do something that she knew would help. She unwrapped one of the candies and handed it to Sameen as soon as she asked.

Shaw took the candy, out of frustration of course, and shoved it in her mouth. “Fine. It’s always fine. She’s polite. I mean, so polite. But she’s moving. And at first, I was annoyed that she didn’t tell me. But she’s slick, you know?” Sameen said and Gen handed her the second piece of candy.

“How so?” she asked.

“She never gets defensive. She just owns it. It’s so annoying,” Shaw said, her frustration renewed as she forgot who she was talking to.

“This must be hard,” Gen said because she understood how complicated the mother-daughter relationship was.

‘It sucks,” Sameen admitted. “I never used to have these problems,” she thought out loud.

“No?” Gen asked, getting the next piece of candy ready.

“I used to be an Axis II Personality. That’s where …,” Sameen thought she would explain, but halted.

“Hmm,” Genrika said, giving that careful thought as she looked Sameen up and down slowly.

Shaw felt more exposed than she did in doctor’s offices when she was in a paper gown. “What?” she asked, but wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“The American Psychiatric Association has done away with axes in the latest addition of the DSM-5 because of needless duplication and confusion, and to bring it more in line with international standards of psychiatric diagnosis,” the youth said as she continued to look at Shaw.

“You’re freaking me out, Kid,” Shaw admitted openly.

“Oh, sorry,” Gen said, sitting back in the chair. “I think you misdiagnosed yourself; that’s all.”

Shaw just sat staring; her head rushing with incoherent thoughts. “I guess I was a little busy after med school to keep up with all the changes,” she finally said too late.

“You were in the Marines, right? That’s where you got the tattoo? That would have served your desire to suppress your feelings,” Gen assessed.

“Janine?” Shaw called out, but the woman didn’t answer.

“I have to go now. It was really great seeing you, Shaw,” Gen said and approached the older woman slowly, the way people do scared animals that they want to befriend. She hugged Shaw and was thrilled when Sameen put her arms around her, too. “YES!” she said as she left, leaving Sameen confused.

Sameen turned around and saw the wrappers on the desk. “Hey!” she called after her friend. “Did you….?” She wondered out loud.

* * *

Two minutes later, the prodigy was upstairs with Bear and Root. She burst in after Root told her secretary to let her in. “SHE HUGGED ME!” she said before even saying hello. She knelt down to hug Bear and then ran to Root to hug her.

“What are you all excited about?” Root asked, sitting on the couch with the excited youth. “Sameen hugged me!” she repeated. “She’s hugged me before, well not hug really, more like she puts her arms around me and tightens them, but this time it was a definite hug. I think she's learning that from you,” she concluded.

“I’m sure Sameen… really?” Root said, always happy to hear about her connection with Sameen.

“Yes, she’s learning to get in touch with her feelings. She’s been working hard, I can tell,” Gen said and petted Bear.

“How do you …?” Root wanted to ask.

“Because I _get_ Shaw. I don’t know how. Maybe it’s that absent mother thing we share. But she shut down and that’s hard to undo when you’re grown up. Anyway, she’s doing it and I think it has to do with you because you’re pretty cool about your feelings,” Gen said.

“Well, yes, I try,” Root replied, having a little trouble keeping up with Gen.

“Anyway, it’s a shame her mother is moving, just when Shaw’s getting used to her being around,” the young girl said like she had been in on the conversation.

“How do you know about Sameen’s mother?” Root asked.

“Well, let’s see,” Gen said, putting her finger to hear chin which annoyed Bear. He pushed his head under her hand again so she’d resume petting him. “When I was waiting for Shaw to come before, Ms. Rousseau asked me if I would like to sit in her office, so I did. I didn’t want to be rude. Then, her girlfriend called to say that she just woke up. Or I assumed that’s what she said, because Ms. Rousseau told her she was glad she slept so late. She was saying something funny to make Ms. Rousseau laugh, but then Ms. Rousseau got serious and said, “ _Oh, by the way, I slipped and told your sister about your mother moving to Connecticut,_ ” Gen reported how she found out.

“Oh,” Root said, slowly nodding her head.

“Any-way,” Genrika said, looking at Bear and raising her eyebrows about how complicated adults could be. He naturally whined – ‘tell me about it!’

“Well, we did stop to see Ms. Morin this morning,” Root added, because she had been thinking about all of it.

“She should talk to Doctor Campbell,” Gen said, coming to her own conclusion.

“About her mother moving?” Root asked.

“About telling her she doesn’t want her to,” Gen elaborated.

Root could have pushed aside any notions the young girl shared, but she knew Genrika possessed intuitiveness that was beyond her years.

“What do you think Azar should do?” Root asked.

“I think…,” she said, choosing her words carefully because she learned it was better to do that with adults, “…her mother should stay. I think Shaw needs her.”

And then, as if drained by all the sagacious sharing, Gen said she was going to go to Harold’s office and take a nap.

“I’m so glad you came by,” Root said thankfully.

“Here,” Gen said, putting some candy in Root’s hand. “Give her these when you talk to Shaw. It’s easier for her.”

Root took the candy and smiled. It amazed her how everyone who came to know the bodyguard wanted to look out for her.

* * *

Gen did go to Harold’s office and Root went to see Sameen. She had a much easier time deciphering everything Genrika had said to her than Shaw did.

“That kid was here,” Shaw said as soon as Root walked into her cubicle.

“Oh, I just saw Genrika,” Root said. “She’s very fond of you.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said because she knew. “I think she was feeding me ….”

“Questions?” Root said, because she suspected as much.

“Candy,” Shaw corrected her.

“Oh,” Root said, biting her lip so she wouldn’t smile at how cute Gen was for doing it and how cute Shaw was for figuring it out.

“I’m … all confused, Root,” Shaw openly admitted, which was an unusual confession.

“Well, it’s very confusing,” Root said.

“I was going to go talk to Doc,” Shaw said and really she was asking Root if she thought that was a good idea. “After lunch,” she clarified.

“Good idea,” Root said because Sameen always seemed calmer after talking to the therapist. And after she ate.

* * *

The two headed to the cafeteria, where Sameen performed her usual display of complete loathing of having to order her sandwich at Parks Deli. After she took the food, the woman looked right at Root. “She’s better. I’m glad.”

In between bites of the delicious cardiac causing sandwich, Sameen repeated that it was her mother’s choice to go wherever she wanted to and how she wished her well.

“Suppose she didn’t go?” Root asked and waited until Sameen had swallowed to ask.

“Well, she’s got to go…somewhere,” Shaw said. “The hotel is being renovated.”

Then, she looked up at Root’s eyes that weren’t just windows to her soul; they were like large screens into her brain. They twinkled and lit up as Root’s idea danced in her head.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, no,” Shaw said, able to read that sparkling glimmer.

“If you want,” Root explained.

“You want my mother to live with you?” Shaw said, kind of leaving herself out of that sentence.

“Uhm, _us_. I was wondering if you would want her to live with …. _Us_ …..until the hotel reopens,” Root explained and dabbed some of the sauce off Sameen’s lip because her mouth was open.

It was one of the few times Root could remember saying anything that made Shaw stop eating.

“Why…would…I…do…that?” Sameen asked when her brain went back online.

“You wouldn’t unless you wanted to,” Root explained. “You have to think about it, and decide. It’s totally your decision.”

Shaw sat back in the chair. She stared at Root, her expression a mix of asking her how she could do this, but also, if she thought it was a good idea.

Reading her expression perfectly and picking at the sandwich that lay in the wrapper now, Root answered, “I’m asking because I don’t think you’re ready for her to leave.”

“Next time you’re going to be honest with me, don’t take me to lunch,” Shaw instructed.

“I’m sorry,” Root said, putting her hand on Sameen’s arm. “You’re right, I should have waited. I guess I just spill my ideas out with your because I want to know what you think.”

“I think…,” Shaw started, but nothing came. Now, even her sarcastic retorts were failing her. “I need to think about this.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” Root said, wishing she had not said anything.

Shaw said she had to go and got up, but then came back and grabbed her sandwich off the table.

She was that upset.

“Dammit!” Root said, sorry that she overloaded her girlfriend. She got up and ran after Sameen, and caught up with her in the hallway. “Sameen, wait, please,” she begged. “I’m sorry.”

Sameen stopped and lowered her head. She turned around to look at Root and hated to see how upset the woman was. “You’re right, Root. I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right. I don’t want her to leave.”

The words stuck in Sameen’s throat as if they were too large to get out. Root rushed to stand in front of her, taking her chin and raising it. “We’re going to figure out what to do. There are other apartments in Manhattan,” Root pointed out.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, remembering her sandwich in her hand. She regretted the way she grabbed it off the table when she left. “Do you want a bite?” she asked and offered the wrapper to Root.

It took a few seconds before Root’s smile stopped and she said; “Oh, you meant the sandwich.”


	87. Insights

Whenever Shaw felt the need to talk to Iris, it simply never occurred to her that the woman might actually have a schedule. Iris just always seemed to be available whenever she showed up. So, imagine Sameen’s surprise when Stella said the therapist wasn’t there.

“What does that even mean?” Shaw asked because it was so rare.

“She’s…out…of…the…,” Stella tried, annunciating the words slowly.

“I know _that_ , “ Shaw barked. “Where? Does anyone know about this?” she asked and meant because things seemed off kilter when the woman wasn’t in her office.

“At a workshop. I’m not entirely sure of the location, but I believe it’s in the city. And I don’t know if anyone knows besides us, but I could check around if it would help,” Stella replied.

Sameen didn’t actually expect all her questions to be answered, so she phrased the next one very carefully. “When... will she be back?”

“Well, let me see…,” the woman said, looking at her screen and squinting. “Oh, it’s not moving,” she said of the cursor and Sameen actually put her hand on the letter opener that stuck out of the pen holder.

“Hi Sameen,” came the voice she wanted to hear and she immediately dropped the sharp object.

“I was…,” Sameen started, but felt literally caught red handed. “…looking for you.”

“I see,” Iris said and she meant … literally. “Let’s go inside,” she smiled cheerfully.

* * *

Sameen took a deep breath as soon as she entered the room. It wasn’t conscious; it was just her way of settling into the space she felt good in. Most of the time.

“If you were at a workshop about the changes in the DSM,” Sameen said of the official manual therapists used to code mental issues, “…I know someone who’s read it.” She was referring to Genrika who quoted it chapter and verse before.

Of course, Iris had no idea of that.

“No, it wasn’t, but thank you. How are you?” Iris asked, immediately settling into her chair, the notepad and pen next to her.

“We have a lot to cover,” Sameen informed her, “…so you might want to …,” and she motioned for Iris to start taking notes.

“Oh, okay,” Iris said because usually Sameen resisted the note taking and found it irritating.

“My mother… you remember her… the woman who disappeared from my life without a trace, only to suddenly come back, when I was finally getting a life?” was Sameen’s opening remark as she fell onto the couch cushion.

There was so much in that one sentence, that Iris thought they could fill the session on just that. But, instead she nodded and said, “Yes, I do.”

“She’s moving out of state, or at least she thinks she is. She didn’t tell me; I found out from…,” and then she hesitated because she wasn’t sure if she should say who it was. “My sister’s… girlfriend. Don’t we have policies about coworkers dating or something?” she actually asked, and then noted the raised eyebrows on the therapist. “Never mind,” Shaw said because of course, she didn’t think the rule would apply to her. “So, this person …told me that my mother was moving. I was pissed because I wanted her to tell me directly, but no. So, I go with Root to see her. And do you want to know how annoying she is?”

“Yes,” Iris answered, terribly interested.

Sameen leaned forward, her arms resting on her legs. “She wanted to tell me, she said. I was busy getting my ass kicked in Brooklyn; well, not literally because seriously, who would do that. But there was a shooting…,” Shaw said and could see the look in Iris’ eyes. “No, not me. Not this time, but someone ….close to me and anyway, there is this pain-in-the-ass detective; not the one we both know, and she came and took us to… visit the precinct. By the end of the night, all was okay, except she kept my gun. Well, this is why I was unavailable for my mother’s update about her moving,” Shaw said, surprised Iris didn’t write that all down.

“And everyone was okay? Where the shooting was?” Iris asked.

“Yes, it was…unnecessary and totally my fault. But what was _not_ my fault was my mother telling everyone, except me. So, I went to see her, and do you know what she had the nerve to do?”

“No,” Iris answered.

“She apologized. Said she was sorry that she couldn’t reach me. She didn’t fight. She never fights!” Shaw complained and looked at Iris and then the pad, as if to indicate that needed to go in someone’s file.

“Oh,” Iris said and wrote on her pad. “Sameen, what would you have preferred your mother do?”

“Fight!” Sameen said as if that were the obvious answer. “I mean … give me something I could argue with her about. But no, she just sat there and apologized.”

“What was really bothering you about this?” Iris asked because, well she’s the therapist.

Sameen stared at her, almost annoyed that she would try to get to the heart of the issue. “Oh, I get it. I was expressing anger at my mother’s lack of manners, but you think it’s really about something else. You know, this therapy stuff isn’t as hard as it looks,” Sameen informed her therapist who spent years training in the process.

“Really?” Iris smiled because she loved hearing Sameen’s insights.

“There’s a twelve year old practicing what you do on people right outside your door,” Sameen informed the woman.

“A twelve year old?” Iris asked to be sure she heard that correctly.

“Well, if you ask me, she’s using behavior modification, but that’s a hop, skip and a jump away from _Freuding_ people,” Sameen digressed.

“Not sure I’ve ever heard it put that way,” Iris admitted and wrote that phrase down immediately.

“The point is … I get it,” Sameen got back on track, but took a long minute to answer anyway. “Alright, I finally asked my mother why she didn’t leave Ayala. There,” Shaw said, sitting back after delivering the kernel of truth. “I’m some sister, aren’t I?” Sameen asked and couldn’t look Iris in the eye. “I was abandoned and I wanted that for my sister, too? Nice,” she chastised herself.

“I think it’s a fair question,” Iris noted and Sameen looked back at her. “Sameen, parents aren’t supposed to leave. They do, for a variety of reasons; some in their control, others not. But the effect is the same on us as children,” Iris elaborated and Sameen just stared; the words washing over her anyway. “What did your mother say?”

“It was complicated. She was CIA and all and… there were people following her whenever she came back here to see me,” Sameen shared.

“That sounds like your explanation. What was your mother’s response?” Iris redirected her question.

“She was always concerned about my security. The people she angered were always watching her. Ayala was safer simply because of where she was. My mother… risked her life coming back to check on me,” Sameen said and was sitting back now. “How can I hate her?” she asked sincerely.

“Sameen,” Iris said in a rare moment of explaining things. “We can hate what someone did and still love them.”

Sameen’s body rocked just the smallest amount in silence, while she took that message in. It wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was to be able to express her anger at her mother, but something was stopping her. Something inside of her. “Root offered to have her live with us,” Sameen segued, and now it was Iris who sat back in the chair.

“Do you want that?” Iris asked.

“You know, I was annoyed at my mother for leaving. And then I told Root that I didn’t care, and that it was up to my mother, because I wouldn’t want anyone tying me down. Root saw right through that. Leave it to her to ask if I want my mother underfoot instead,” Sameen laughed.

“Do you want your mother …,” Iris tried again.

“I’d like her to be here… a little longer, I think,” Sameen said as she thought about it.

“In New York?” Iris asked to clarify.

“Maybe. Well, not Brooklyn, because apparently Root and I are banned from ever going there,” Shaw said, confusing the therapist.

“Why do you think Root offered to have your mother move in with you?” Iris asked.

“Because Root….,” Sameen said quickly, ready to answer any question about her girlfriend. But she didn’t have a quick answer, like how crazy Root’s ideas could be. Instead, she said; “Because Root is just that sweet. She just thinks of everything; she does everything. She’s a really, really good person, Doc, you know?”

“Yes,” Iris smiled and watched as Sameen seemed to relax a little more.

“I’m going to tell my mother that I need more time,” Shaw decided, slapping her hands on her legs. “She’s going to have to move somewhere closer. I am not fighting that traffic all the way up to Connecticut,” she reasoned.

“Sounds like you know what you want to say,” Iris said.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, the thoughts somehow coming to her more calmly when she was on that couch and talking about Root.

Then, she stood up and walked to the door, Iris behind her. She turned and looked right into the woman’s light eyes. “You’re…,” Shaw said and coughed because saying nice things didn’t quite flow like sarcastic things did. “…very good at all of … this stuff.”

Iris smiled warmly. “So are you,” she said to her client who tried the hardest.

If giving a compliment was difficult for Sameen, receiving them was even more challenging. She gave the obligatory thanks and left.

Dr. Campbell watched Sameen leave and smiled.

“Does she have another appointment?” Stella asked because the woman loved the order of schedules.

“Whenever she wants,” Iris laughed softly as she retreated to her office to write up her notes.

* * *

Sameen left the therapist’s office feeling better about knowing what she wanted. Seeing Root in her office when she got back, was icing on the cake.

Root didn’t offer any explanations of why she was there. She simply got up, took Sameen by the jaw, and kissed her lips passionately. The action was the equivalent of highlighting and deleting whatever thoughts were in Sameen’s head; it erased everything… temporarily. It took a few seconds, but when Root released her and sat down, the thoughts emerged from the wonderful sensation.

“That was… nice,” Shaw said, making sure no one was gawking at them over the wall. She still held her privacy in the highest regard.

“For me, too,” Root smiled.

“So, I talked to Doc,” Shaw updated her girlfriend. “I’m telling my mother she needs to give me more time.”

“I know this adorable brownstone on 78th Street!” Root clapped her hands.

Shaw thought it over. “Seventy eighth? That might work,” Sameen said because it was close, but not too close. Then, she looked over at Root. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Root asked sincerely.

“Always have things figured out?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, but I don’t,” Root admitted. “I almost had your mother in our west wing, remember?”

“But you’re always thinking of how to fix things. Wait, we have a west wing?” Shaw asked.

“Well, technically it’s _Bear_ territory,” Root laughed at the term.

“The dog has his own wing?” Shaw asked incredulously. Yes, even after all that she had seen.

“Well, it’s not a whole wing, but he has a gym, a pool, a yoga room for when it’s cold out…,” Root explained and Shaw shook her head. “Oh, that reminds me,” Root said softly. “Just a heads up that Bear’s trophy came in and he’s kind of making a big deal out of it.” Root pursed her lips, her eyes wide as she tilted her head.  Shaw sat back and laughed. “What’s so funny?” Root asked.

“You talk about your crazy dog in the same tone you talk about your AI friend. Like it’s nothing to raise an eyebrow over,” Shaw pointed out.

“Well, I do have an AI who proved to be quite helpful to us,” Root reminded Shaw, “…and he’s not crazy. He’s jealous of you.”

“He…dragged…me off the couch and you’re rewarding him?” Shaw asked.

“He _thought_ he was rescuing you,” Root reminded Shaw, who raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head.

Just then, they heard the murmur of people up and down the hallway. “Now remember,” Root said, putting her hand on Sameen’s leg. “He’s proud that he… helped you.”

Root’s eyes lit up and Sameen turned to see what had her attention. There, in the hallway, was Bear. He was sitting there next to a wagon… the kind you buy kids to ride it… and in the wagon was his trophy. He was pulling it through the hallway to show everyone.

Sameen’s head turned to look back at Root, who sat there like a proud mother. Bear barked in case Sameen didn’t notice. “Yeah, I see it,” she barked back and could tell from the look on Root’s face, she wanted her to play nice. She got up and walked over to the dog. “Wow, very impressive,” Shaw said and looked at the trophy. “ _For Rescuing Sameen Shaw_ ,” she read and tried to bit her tongue. “Well, Bear, well deserved,” Sameen said and petted the dog’s head.  
Bear was ecstatic.

Getting the trophy was one thing; getting Shaw’s congratulations was quite another. He leapt up at Sameen and knocked her down. The more she yelled, the more excited he got thinking this was Sameen’s way of saying his trophy was better. “I will shoot you,” she yelled and no one, not even Bear, believed her.

Shaw wrestled to get him off, but it was Root’s command of “Af! Liggen, Bear,” that got him to stop and lie down.

“I didn’t take you as the type to wrestle dogs, Shaw,” Detective Jackson said as Shaw stood up and spit out dog hairs from her mouth. “ _For Rescuing Sameen Shaw_ ,” the cop read the trophy description out loud as Bear’s tail wag quickly. “That’s quite a dog.”

“You want him?” Shaw offered the woman she hadn’t expected to see.

“Ms. Groves might have something to say about that,” the detective proffered and said hello to Root.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Shaw asked, having used her entire tank of politeness up with Iris. “Need another case solved?”

Root pressed her lips together tightly because she always found Sameen’s brazenness adorable, even with the wrong people. “Can we get you anything, Detective Jackson?” Root asked, trying to smooth over her girlfriend’s brash comments.

“Donuts? Cardboard cutouts…,” Sameen said and Root gently pulled her partner towards her in a hug to keep her from inserting both feet in her mouth.

Jackson got it immediately. “And here I came all the way from the borough of your banishment to return your gun,” Jackson said, not threatened in anyway by Sameen’s impetuous remarks. “But I’m not getting any warm and fuzzy feeling, so I guess I’ll go back from whence I came,” the woman said because she knew Shaw would regret it.

“Wait!” Shaw said, as if on cue. “You brought my gun?” and there was a discernible change in her tone.

“Why yes, I did,” Jackson confirmed.

“I thought you were taking it for evidence?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, well I figured I had enough evidence last night of how you two helped out in our hour of need,” Jackson explained.

“Dammit!” Shaw whispered, but everyone heard her; including Bear. He sat up and barked directly at Sameen, giving her his unwanted, unwelcomed, but sage advice. “I will apologize, give me a minute,” Sameen said directly to the dog and then realized… what this looked like. She laughed uncomfortably…really uncomfortably… and looked up at Jackson. “You probably think I was …ha ha… talking…,” she tried, but it was all too much. She wanted to plead with the outsider that she was sane and could prove it, but she knew better.

“What I think...,” the detective said, “…is that you two helped us out and I’m returning your gun.”

Sameen looked at the woman who…for the first time since their paths crossed, smiled a genuine smile.

“That’s very nice; thank you,” Root said, hoping this would be the start of a beautiful friendship for Shaw and the woman.

“Yeah, thanks for… uh.. coming all the way here,” Sameen said and accepted the weapon, wrapped up in the evidence bag.

“You’re welcome,” Jackson said as she bid them goodbye, but felt she just had to tease Sameen back. “I wouldn’t have missed you talking to the dog for anything.” Her wink at Root told her it was all in jest. Which was good, because knowing this, Root put her hand on Sameen when she went to follow the woman.

“Let’s go tell your mother the good news,” Root said instead.

Root suggested that they invite Azar and Ayala to dinner at the beautiful Lakeside Restaurant in the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. As soon as it was all set, Root handed Janine a list. “Make sure they have this available,” Root said because she knew the portions at the establishment would not meet Sameen’s standards.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Sameen and Root sat at the table waiting for their guests. Root sipped a wine spritzer, while Shaw gulped her whiskey neat and waived the waiter over. “Again,” she said because she was not looking forward to admitting her feelings to her mother while her sister watched.

But Root thought she had another way.

When Azar and Ayala arrived, there were no hugs and kisses hello. Azar smiled warmly and Ayala commented that she heard good things about the food at the restaurant.

“You know if you want fish, they catch it right there in the lake,” Sameen lied.

“I don’t eat fish,” Ayala said and her response made Shaw’s head snap to the left where Root sat.

“I think I’ll have the Végétarien Miso Glazed Portabello-Mushroom and Baby Bok Choy,” Ayala smiled, putting down the menu.

The expression on Shaw’s face clearly indicated there was not one word in that sentence that she liked. “Can’t have grown up bok choy?” she asked.

“What do you recommend, Sameen?” her mother asked to intercede.

“Something that walked on four legs,” Sameen said dryly.

“Or two,” Root added telling Azar the chicken was very good there.

Sameen downed her second drink because she was not sitting near Ayala’s dish of horror stone cold sober.

“Root and I have been talking,” is how Sameen started to get to her point. “The bid on the house you thought you had is going to fall through. And we know that because you have an all seeing daughter _more_ annoying than the vegan to my right.”

“Sameen,” Azar said and it was exactly the tone a mother would use when pleading with her kids not to start up at the dinner table.

“How do you know that?” Ayala asked out of interest.

“Because the machine that is vying for second favorite in the family told Root,” Sameen said, smiling.

Ayala was like the fish in the lake; she wasn’t biting. “There are other houses, I’m sure,” she said to her mother.

“Well, there’s one right her on 78th Street that might fit your needs,” Root said as the salads were served.

“Oh,” Azar said, because she didn’t know any of this.

“And besides, this way, you don’t have to worry about commuting to and from Connecticut, checking on her like I told you to,” Shaw gently informed her sibling.

Ayala was in such a wonderful mood after a truly lovely evening that lasted into the wee hours, that she seemed immune to her sibling’s jabs. But that didn’t meant she wouldn’t try to get back at her.

“Oh, look, Sameen,” Ayala said when the main dishes arrived, “Do you want some of my portabella mushrooms?”

“You know they’re fungi, right?” Sameen said, as they laid out a steak that could feed three people, before her.

“Tell me about the brownstone, Samantha?” Ayala pleaded. “Is it for sale?”

“It could be,” Root said because she owned it. “Or it could be rented.”

“I’m looking myself for an apartment,” Ayala interjected. “I’m looking in Brooklyn.”

“Great,” Shaw uttered, but started to eat her steak and got distracted.

“You have the worst eating habits I have even witnessed,” Ayala admitted openly.

“I have…(tears piece off fork and chew)… taken down bigger people than you for interfering with my meals,” Sameen said, unaffected.

“Girls,” Azar tried. “Can we just enjoy whatever food it is we like?”

Shaw couldn’t remember the last time someone tried to chastise her, but she felt it immediately. Ayala laughed it off because she didn’t see food as her religion. “Okay, Imah,” her daughter said in Hebrew.

The trio waited while Sameen took her time enjoying her large meal. Azar ordered coffee and Root felt as if the heart of the matter had not yet been reached. Each time they talked about Azar’s options, one of the daughters interrupted and sidetracked them.

Root needed to help Sameen get back on track.

* * *

“Sweetie,” she said when the meal was finished, “I’m going to show Ayala where you saved Janine in the lake,” she said getting up from her seat. Sameen started to get up, too, but Root put her hand on Shaw’s arm. “Why don’t you and Azar talk about… real estate?”

Shaw would have much preferred going with Root as she bragged about her brave girlfriend.

Root took Ayala by the arm as they walked down the pathway, towards the lake. “Over there, by the bridge, is where your sister jumped in to save her…,” they could hear Root explain as she walked away.

“It is no wonder that girl is so devoted to you,” Azar said.

“Janine? Yeah,” Shaw said.

“I meant Samantha,” Azar said smiling.

“I don’t deserve her,” Shaw said as she watched Root walk farther down the path.

“Of course you do,” Azar said knowingly.

“Listen, I’m just going to say this,” Shaw said, because after Gen, Root and Iris, what she had to do was perfectly clear to her rational brain. “I..,” and the words stuck, until Shaw’s eyes caught sight of Root, standing at the water’s edge. She drew in a deep breath, finding the courage in that image. “I don’t want you to move. I have no right to keep you here, so if you really want to go, I get it. But we’re just starting to… understand one another and I’d like to give that more time.”

Azar was so pleasantly surprised, that emotions rushed at her, causing her dark large eyes to water. But she knew better than to gush over this with Sameen. “I would like that very much,” she said softly. “Very much.”

“I’ll make her go with you if you want,” Shaw assured her mother about Ayala.

“No,” Azar laughed softly. “I appreciate that, Sameen, but it is time for her to make her own way if she wants. She is very fond of this woman, Martine.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said, not sure how she felt about that.

“Root is very kind to find another home for me,” Azar noted.

“Yeah, well you were almost sleeping with the dog, but she thought better of that,” Shaw laughed as her gaze stayed fixed on the woman walking back towards her now.

Azar’s heart pounded with joy, knowing that the wounds she had caused Sameen, were starting to heal. There would always be scars, she feared, for her first daughter.

But now Sameen had the best medicine in the world…

In the form of the woman who returned to her seat, stopping first to kiss Shaw, simply because she had missed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Bear's real tutor will correct those phrases if they're wrong.


	88. Justice League

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: File this under - 'be careful what you ask for'. A reader asked me to include Gen. My pleasure. Then, a reader asked if I could write something about Root getting sick and Shaw taking care of her. I think they meant something like Root getting the flu. Which is where I was headed ... but then this happened. Mea cupla.

The dinner was over, the bill had been paid, but not before an argument broke out over who was going to pay. Sameen wished she had remembered her gun because she found just brandishing it, usually settled things. Azar insisted, Root insisted and the waiter stood motionless, unable to decide who to listen to. Then, Azar explained to him that he must obey the old adage; _age before beauty_ when it came to handing the bill over… and he did.

“I told you,” Sameen said to Root, “…very stubborn.”

The four women decided to walk through the park because the warm air was so inviting and they were all so full after the delicious meal. Sameen and Root walked slightly ahead of her family as they strolled along the lamp lit path.

“Let’s go this way,” Ayala called to them and explained that she wanted to see Bow Bridge; an iconic sight in the park.

“What a pain,” Sameen was mumbling, but Root took her arm and pulled her in, calming any hesitancy.

“I’ll have someone bring your mother to the townhouse tomorrow and if she likes it, it will be settled,” Root explained to Shaw.

“What’s not to like? It’s a townhouse…in a brownstone…in Manhattan…on 78th. She’ll like it,” Shaw said, but her attention was drifting away to their surroundings.

“There it is,” Ayala called back because she was ahead of the couple now. She continued to walk slowly for Azar’s sake. The woman was, after all, in high heels.

“Okay,” Root called ahead and went to hasten their pace to keep up.

Then it happened.

Four men came out of the bushes and ambushed them. Azar’s gold jewelry had glittered in the dim lighting and that was their signal that these were the people to rob. Brandishing weapons that they knew how to use, they pushed the women into the wooded area. Or they tried.

Ayala fought valiantly, even with her sore arm and kicked the assailant between the legs, sending him down into a kneeling position. Root’s height worked to her advantage as she leaned over and sent her attacker flying over her back. Shaw used two…maybe two and a half moves to render hers temporarily unconscious. Shaw turned to see if Root was okay and grabbed her close when she saw that she was. Ayala turned to check on her mother… and then they all saw it.

The leader of the group had his gun aimed at Azar’s head.

“I swear to God, one move out of any of you and I will put a bullet through her head,” he said and held Azar at a distance in case she was as agile as the other three. “You move and I will shoot someone,” he warned her as she considered how to disarm him. She was a trained CIA agent, but feared for her children and Root.

Shaw stared at her; telepathically sending her the go signal to take this man down. She saw exactly how Azar should do it, too. ‘ _DO IT_!’ she shouted over and over in her head, hoping her stiff expression conveyed that message.

Azar understood instantly. But she made the assessment of time and movement and was certain; he could get a shot off even if she did manage to get him.

“No,” she said to Sameen and he shook her for talking.

“What the f…,” Shaw shouted, but by this time, their window of opportunity closed. The other three men rose to their feet, shaken, but not stirred.

Now they were really angry… and embarrassed that three ordinary women had subdued them so easily.

“I’ll give you what you want,” Azar said, her voice steady and calm.

“That was never a worry, lady,” the man who had his gun on her said.

Shaw had been in dozens of situations like this and usually dealt a deathly blow, either by weapon or her hands. She assessed her options and would have moved quickly, if it weren’t for the fact that the man who Root had subdued was hell bent on paying her back.

_WHACK!_

Shaw was so busy staring at Azar that it took her a second to realize that Root had just received a full blow across the face. “You sonova bitch,” Shaw yelled and went to go after him, but now, two guns pointed at her.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Root said, her hand on her swollen bloody lip as she knelt in the leaves on the ground.

“I will kill you,” Shaw said to them and decided right then and there how to use her time. She pulled away from her assailant and knelt with Root.

“Come on, lady,” the man said roughly to Azar, who removed her gold jewelry and handed it to him.

Sameen pushed the hair off of Root’s face and assessed her injuries. “Please, Sameen,” Root said, holding onto her arm because she didn’t want her girlfriend to go Rambo on them and get hurt. Sameen knew what to do. She stood up and stayed right near Root. She looked at the man who was using duct tape to secure her sister and knew the woman would get out of that within seconds. She watched the man grab the jewelry from her mother, and then she moved quickly to catch Azar, as the assailant pushed her to the ground.

“I’ve got you,” Sameen said to her mother, catching the woman before she fell on her face.

“Tie them up,” the leader said and the other applied the tape to their wrists. They pushed them to their knees as they taped the wrists and ankles. Sameen kneeled there staring at the four men. She figured she better memorize them for when she came back.

“Anyone follows us, I swear I will shoot first next time,” the leader said as they walked backwards to the path and took off.

* * *

Sameen was right; Ayala was the first out of the duct tape restraint, and then she went to help her mother. Shaw was next and she immediately went to Root.

“Call 911,” Azar said as she got up and came to look at Root.

“No!” Shaw said because she did not want interference.

“You must take her home,” Azar said of Root and in case her daughter had any idea of going after them.

Sameen was losing it seeing Root injured. She helped her up and then turned to Azar. “Where is your all-seeing machine now?” she shouted. “Where the fuck is that thing? I thought it sent you to find Root. That’s bullshit! I knew it!” Shaw said, her body animated as she fumed.

“Sameen,” Root said, her gentle touch on Sameen’s arm enough to make her stop.

“When I get home, I’m shooting the shit out of that thing. You made her believe in it and it didn’t watch out for her,” Shaw yelled. Then, she turned back to Root and took her arm as the four walked out of the park.

Azar knew her daughter was angrier at herself than the machine.

Ayala walked with Azar and assured Shaw she would take her home and stay with her. “I want a doctor to look at her,” Sameen demanded and Ayala said she would call one to come.

* * *

Shaw did the same thing and one was waiting for Root when they arrived home. Shaw wanted Martine to meet them at the Penthouse, but she knew the woman would want to check on Ayala. So, she could the next person she could think of. As soon as she called Janine, she regretted it. But if she called Reese or Fusco, they’d never let her do what she was planning.

Janine proved to be the best choice. She arrived and went into action, taking care of Bear while the doctor went upstairs. He assessed Root’s injuries and suggested to Sameen that she rest for at least forty-eight hours because the body doesn’t register trauma until the next day sometimes. “She’s very lucky; you both are,” he said and Sameen couldn’t have disagreed more. “I gave her some pain med to sleep tonight. She’ll feel better in the morning,” he promised.

He wanted to check Sameen, but she waved him off. Her injuries were inside and ongoing. Her entire world was shook by this incident. Root was hurt – something that was never supposed to happen on her watch. The presence of her sister and mother threw her fierce concentration off, and as a result, her judgement was impaired. And the worst part – she had left her gun at work. It was simply protocol to have any gun that was not in her possession for any amount of time checked.

Root looked up and smiled, but only one side of her face cooperated. “Are you okay?” she asked Sameen. “There was nothing that you could do,” she assured her because she knew the job Shaw’s ego was doing to her right now.

Shaw’s jaw tightened as she sat on the bed next to Root. Her breathing alone told Root how upset she was.

“They were professionals, Sameen. Someone would have gotten seriously hurt if you had done anything,” Root pointed out.

Shaw couldn’t speak. She put her finger out to gently touch Root’s lip as if the remind herself of the mistake she made. Root eyes smiled the smile her lips couldn’t make, but it sapped her energy. Then, Root ruined everything.

“Promise me you won’t leave,” Root said, her eyes heavy from the medication. She took Sameen’s hand and held onto it tightly. She knew exactly what was going on behind those dark eyes.

“I..,” Shaw said, looking at the door.

“Promise me,” Root repeated.

Exacting her revenge was the second thing that Sameen thought about since the incident. Now, Root was making her promise not to leave, costing her precious time. She would be back in two hours at the most. Root would be asleep and Janine would be there to watch her. Her breathing shortened as she tried to decide what to do.

“Prom…,” is all Root got up before she succumbed; her grip loosening on Sameen’s hand.

Anger pulsated through Sameen’s entire body. As seconds ticked away, expressing that anger that mobilized her had nowhere to go. It was the type of dilemma that made Shaw feel crazy. She wanted to shake Root and wake her, explain this to her because she was certain she would understand. But then she looked down at Root…the woman who trusted her to protect her.

“I promise,” Shaw said softly and slipped into bed, alongside Root.

She couldn’t let her down… twice.

* * *

Root woke up the next morning and could feel Shaw’s body close to hers. She thanked God that she was there because she was afraid that Sameen’s thirst for revenge would be too hard to deny.

“Good morning,” Shaw smiled down, having been awake for some time now. “Let me see how you look,” she said, turning Root’s face gently towards her. “Your lip looks much better, “ she said, kissing it gently.

“Thank you, Sameen,” Root said and she meant for being there.

“I always keep my promises,” Shaw smiled and that lifted Root’s spirits.

“You must be starving,” Root said when Sameen told her the time.

“No, I’m actually okay,” Sameen said and meant it. No lie – the woman wasn’t ravaged from hunger.

“How are your mother and sister?” Root asked, concerned.

“Martine is with them and besides my sister’s bruised ego, I think they’re both okay,” Shaw updated her and then took a good look at her face.

“I think it hurts here,” Root said of her lip and Sameen looked closely because it wasn’t where the cut was.

“Maybe some residual trauma,” the former doctor assessed as she leaned in.

Root pulled Shaw down gently to kiss her. “That actually feels better now,” she reported.

Catching on, Sameen smiled down at her patient. “Really? That’s the cure?” she asked.

“Always,” Root said, her facial expression making up for the uncooperative lip.

“Where else does it hurt?” Sameen asked, playing along.

“I think I hit my chest,” Root said, unbuttoning her pajama top and opening it.

“Nope,” Sameen said, teasing Root. “I don’t see any bruises there.”

“Look closer,” Root said, taking Shaw’s head and pulling it down.

“Oh, now I see. Maybe something right here…,” she said, slowly enveloping Root’s flesh and making her shiver.

“Yes, right there,” Root said as Shaw continued her oral ministrations.

Root knew something the other doctor didn’t know; Shaw was her best medicine.

* * *

Shaw insisted that Root remain in bed while she brought her up breakfast. Isabelle was whirling around the kitchen, so upset about the physical attack. “I hope someone catches them!” she blurted out as she prepared eggs and soft bread for her boss.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sameen assured her in a gravelly voice. “ _Someone_ will.”

Janine said she would take care of everything and stayed out of Sameen’s way as she tended to Root.

“She’s like a different person,” Shaw said when she brought the tray into Root.

“She’s no different from all of us,” Root assessed. “She just needs a purpose.”

“I had to let Bear and Isabelle in before while you were sleeping. They two of them were so upset,” Shaw explained.

“I texted Bear,” Root said pulling herself up a little in bed.

When Root complained that her elbow hurt, Sameen took over feeding her. Root could have died and gone to heaven to have the woman of her dreams dote on her so lovingly.  
And boss her.

“You have to have all of this, you need your strength,” Sameen said when Root didn’t want anymore. Sameen didn’t believe in leaving food over. Root would have eaten the plate if Shaw insisted.

“Thank you,” Root said again when Shaw lifted the juice to her mouth.

“Of course,” Sameen said because she thought Root was thanking her for helping her eat.

“For waiting for me,” Root elaborated, but that didn’t make it any clearer.

“What?” Shaw asked, lifting the fork with the last of the egg to Root’s mouth. She opened it like a baby bird accepting food from its mother.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Root repeated.

Shaw looked at her… frustrated. “Why do you repeat it? I heard you, I didn’t understand you.”

“Oh,” Root said, and stroked Sameen’s hand. “I meant… we’ll do it together.”

“Oh!” Sameen said overstatedly. “That clears ….”

“I know what you wanted to do last night,” Root said and Sameen stopped talking. “And I’m glad you waited so that I can go with you.”

“You’re not…,” Sameen attempted to say because she had just bossed Root about the food.

But Root had limits.

“Then, you’re not,” Root said authoritatively and Sameen wondered how she recovered so quickly from the frail woman who just needed to be fed.

“Root!” Sameen said, hoping her tone indicated everything she wanted to say about why that wasn’t a good idea. “I’m supposed to guard you, remember?”

“And you did!” Root said back, because she was not going to let her egotistical girlfriend beat herself up. “There was nothing you could do given the circumstances,” she insisted.

Every time Shaw went to open her mouth to protest, Root shook her head or simply said – ‘no’.

“God! You are a stubborn woman!” Shaw bemoaned at not being able to win this fight.

“I know,” Root said to her grumpy girlfriend, and this time her lip cooperated and smiled for her.

* * *

Reese and Fusco came over and insisted on seeing them. Root felt better after a shower and emerged with Sameen at her side.

“Geez,” Fusco said, thinking Shaw looked worse.

“You two okay?” Reese asked and the depth of his concern was easy to see in those blue pools.

“Yes, we’re okay,” Root assured them. Her lip had gone done considerably and there was only a small cut left.

Both men were glad to hear it, but they also knew how hard this was for Sameen.

“Look!” Fusco said before she had a chance to say anything. “You’re not to blame for this. These guys are dangerous. They’ve been robbing people in the parks and they shot someone last week, so they’re not fooling around.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said, not impressed and not any less guilty.

The men asked if there was anything they could do and when Root told them no, they both left.

* * *

Fusco waited until he was in the elevator before saying to John: “You know she’s going after them, right?”

Reese turned and smiled at his friend. “What makes you think she’s going alone?” He knew Root would never let Shaw go solo.

“Great! What are we gonna do?” Fusco asked his friend.

“Assist them, of course,” Reese said, putting on his sunglasses and looking as cool as anything in the midday sun.

* * *

Janine saw to it that no one bothered the couple and she even talked with Bear so the dog didn’t freak out. She was in contact with Martine and reported back on how Azar and Ayala were doing. Then, she left the couple alone in the living room.

“I need my laptop,” Root said to Shaw who told her under no circumstances was she going to allow her to do work today. “Sameen, the reason the machine couldn’t tell us anything last night is that she was off line. We were testing some parameters before I left work yesterday. “Now, I need to put her back online and see if she can help us narrow down our suspects.”

“Before we go to get them, right?” Shaw asked, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Root agreed.

By late afternoon, Root had the machine fully functional. Sameen heard Root say several times…”Yes, she is,” to the interactive program. “She’s okay, I promise,” she gave her word.

Sameen knew exactly who Root was assuring the machine about and wondered how the hell it could have feelings… like concern… about Azar? Sameen didn’t realize it yet, of course, but the machine had learned it… from Azar…all those years when everything she did with the machine was to watch over her daughter.

Now, she was watching over Azar.

By nightfall, the machine had narrowed down locations of where the suspects might strike next. It searched the police database and provided pictures of the suspects.

“I don’t need that,” Shaw said of the visual aids. “I know who they are,” she assured Root having memorized key physical features like ear shape and brow structure.

“They’re headed to Prospect Park,” Root said after reading the machine’s analysis.

“Really?” Shaw asked annoyed at the irony.

Prospect Park was in Brooklyn… the borough of the couple’s banishment.

“I wish you would just let me go…,” Sameen tried for the umpteenth time, in spite of the fact that Root felt one hundred percent better.

“ _Bruise easy, heal quick_ ,” she quoted to her worried girlfriend.

* * *

The two got into the elevator, dressed in dark clothing and armed.

“What’s in the bag?” Sameen asked of the small paper bag that Root carried.

“Apples,” Root said.

Sameen stared up at the floor numbers as they descended. “Nope, not going to ask,” she announced even though she was as curious as hell.


	89. Kicking Ass and Taking Names

Here’s what Root understood about Sameen; the woman needed to assure Root and herself that she was be best bodyguard God ever created. Bar none. So, Root’s plan was to allow Shaw to do what she did best – kick ass like a badass.

Here’s what Shaw understood about Root; there was no talking her out of it. Apparently, she decided, Root wasn’t as easy going as she appeared.

“Maybe your machine is being so helpful because she heard me say what I would do it,” Shaw theorized.

“Maybe,” Root said as they walked down a path in Brooklyn’s largest park.

Night had fallen and the cool weather meant there were only a few people out. But there was a gala affair on the other end of the park and the thieves were hoping to pick up a few good deals as people walked through on their way home.

The techie was busy looking at her phone, reading updates from the machine. “Up here,” she said softly. Shaw walked with Root until she stopped at an empty bench in a dimly lit area. “They’re going to be walking through here,” she updated Sameen. Then, Root walked over and sat…not on the bench, but on the back of the bench. Shaw thought she was doing it to have an advantage point, and she was right.

Finally, Shaw couldn’t take it any longer. “Okay, why apples?” she had to ask and was annoyed that she had to quench her curiosity. Root smiled as she took out two apples and duct tape. “Duct tape?” Shaw said, thinking that was a great idea. “I’m glad you remembered that.”

“Thanks.” Root smiled.

“And…the… _apples_?” Shaw heard herself repeat.

“In case I get hungry, silly,” Root said to the foodie. Sameen just shook her head.

“Alright, when they get here, I’m not promising I’m only doing kneecaps,” Shaw said as if Root was going to argue.

Instead, Root extended her arm and pulled Sameen in and kissed her. “Sure,” she agreed.

Sameen was pretty sure kissing on a stakeout was not allowed, but she was too busy tasting Root’s lip gloss.

Root kissed her for two reasons; she wanted to wish Shaw luck, and she didn’t want her to see the reflection off of Fusco’s phone. She knew the two men were coming; she just didn’t want them to steal her girlfriend’s thunder.

* * *

“Here they come,” Root said and retrieved one of the apples from the bag.

Shaw noticed that Root didn’t change her position, nor did she put her hand on her gun. She just started eating the apple. Sameen stared for a minute, trying to decipher this pre-battle behavior.

“Now,” Root jerked her head, and Sameen turned her attention to the men walking down the footpath.

“Remember me?” Shaw said, walking into their path.

They stared at the five-foot three plus two inch heeled woman, whose hand was in her coat pocket. “Who could forget that face,” one of them said and they circled her, just as Sameen had hoped.

“I’m promised to pay you back,” she smiled to the leader, and suddenly, every inch of Sameen Shaw became the trained operative she was.

“You and your girlfriend over there?” the leader asked and Shaw realized Root was sitting back on purpose.

“She’s on cleanup duty,” Shaw answered and her dark eyes locked on him. “That was my mother you threatened. So, I’m coming for you last.” She pointed her finger at his face, which told the men, she didn’t have a gun in that hand.  
It took a second, but the men laughed because this woman had barely managed to subdue one of them the night before.

But that was before they _really_ pissed her off.

The men, naturally, pulled their guns out. This is what Sameen wanted them to do because she grabbed the first one and stood behind him, using him as a shield for the bullets that flew at her. She grabbed his gun as she held up his limp body and shot one of them… in the kneecaps. He fell down in agony. The next one rushed at her as she stood perfectly still until he was closer. He raised his gun and there was a blast of gunfire. But again it was Shaw hitting his shoulder. She dropped her human shield, walked over and kicked his gun away.

“Maybe you want to join us?” the leader asked, impressed by the woman who just took care of his crew. “But I bet you didn’t count of this,” he said and pulled a very large gun out from his jacket.

For a few seconds, the only thing Sameen could hear was the sound of Root biting into the apple.

“I can hit your girlfriend from here,” he sneered, moving the pointed gun from her to Root.

That really upset Shaw.

For a split second, Fusco readied his gun as he hoped Reese did on the other side of the walkway. They agreed to only participate if it looked like their friends ran out of options. “Froot Loops is still on the bench,” he said into his comm device to Reese.

“Get him, Sameen,” Root called like she was shouting from the bleachers.

“One step close and I clip her,” he smiled as if he had won.

“You touched my mother…,” Shaw said slowly, “…and now you threaten my girlfriend? Tsk, tsk.”

The next thing anyone heard were consecutive blasts from a gun that Sameen had taken from her first attacker. Her friends were slightly surprised at how fast she discharged it…three times, but the perp was stunned. He never saw it coming. He fell back, his gun going off in the air. Shaw kicked his gun out of the way and bent down near him.

“You sonova bitch,” he yelled in pain.

“This is really going to hurt when I tape your hands behind your back,” she promised him.

“I won’t forget this,” he yelled.

She stopped and grabbed him with two hands and pulled him up close. “I’m letting you live because you’re going to serve your time. If you ever get out and come near anyone I love again, I will put a bullet right here,” she said and poked her finger at his forehead and pushed hard, letting go so he hit his head on the concrete.

“They’re done,” Root reported and Sameen turned to see she had taped their hands behind their backs.

“Let’s wrap this up,” Shaw said and meant it literally.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, as people converged on the pathway, police sirens swarmed the area and cops rushed past Sameen and Root, who were walking arm in arm.

“You were wonderful,” Root said, stopping to kiss Sameen. The sweet taste of lip gloss was replaced by the succulent taste of apple.

“You sat there eating an apple while I took care of them?” Shaw asked, just to point it out.

“I knew you could take care of them,” Root said, hugging Sameen closer.

Shaw felt good. She had paid back a debt and proved she could handle herself in the face of danger; just like Root knew she could.

“Nice night for a stroll in the park,” Fusco said as he and Reese came up behind them.

“I should have known,” Shaw said, turning to see the two men walking up to them. “You two dating now?” she asked, just to unnerve them.

John stopped and looked at Fusco, not willing to give Sameen the satisfaction. “I’ve had worse,” he said and resumed his walking.

“Wait! What does that mean?” Fusco asked, following him, unsure if he should be insulted or flattered.

Sameen turned to look up at Root. “Look, I’m sorry…last night I didn’t protect you,” and the words stuck because she believed she had failed.

“Sameen! We went over this. You did exactly what you had to do - given the circumstances. Tonight, the circumstances were different and you took care of things.”

Sameen admired how Root was always able to see things in a positive light; but she was never as grateful as she was tonight. Shaw stood on her toes and pulled Root’s face down towards her so she could kiss the mouth that spoke those words.

Another group of police rushed passed the lovers. In the middle of the group was a detective, who paused only a second to look back at the couple. “No,” she said and shook her head.

* * *

As the foursome sat in the diner on Ocean Avenue, blocks away, the table overflowed with dishes, the four men was placed under arrest.

“It’s like someone wrapped them up like a gift,” the lead detective commented to Jackson.

* * *

“How did Jackson know to come?” Fusco whispered to the women.

“A little birdie told her,” Root smiled.

“And we’re not worried about cameras in the park, fingerprints on the tape?” the detective checked.

Shaw shook her head no, but her lips said… ‘Maybe’. “I can’t think of everything, Fusco!” she balked.

“The cameras weren't working tonight. And by the time the tape or weapons get into evidence, there won’t be any trace of that,” Root smiled the way someone does when they’re sure of something.

“What she said,” Shaw said back to her worried friend.

* * *

Blocks away, Detective Jackson stood in front of the four men who were taped together in a circle. Their hands, legs and ankles were fastened, as well as their mouths.

“How come you were called in?” the detective in charge of robbery asked of the homicide detective.

"I got an anonymous tip," she said, looking at her phone. She stared down at the handiwork – shot kneecaps, precise wounds and careful binding. “This the leader?” she asked and noticed he was injured in three places.

“It’s like a doctor shot him,” the cop said. “Each bullet went right through, incapacitating him, but not killing him,” he marveled.

“I wonder who could have done that,” the woman said, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “Get me evidence report when you can.”

“Sure,” the lead detective said, always willing to help out a fellow officer.

_By the time the report would reach Detective Jackson’s desk, the evidence would be inconclusive. Thanks to someone miscoding the information… in the computer._

* * *

Root couldn’t wait to get home and was happy when the quartet said goodnight. Sameen drove back to New York, pounding the steering wheel with her palms, to the music that blared from the radio. This was Sameen… happy.

Root was happy, too, but she was also incredibly turned on by seeing her hot girlfriend wreak havoc.

Grabbing Sameen by the collar as soon as they stepped into the entryway, she pushed her up against the wall and smothered her in kisses. “God, you are hot when you’re fierce,” Root said as she ripped opened Sameen’s shirt, sending buttons flying all over.

“I was fierce, wasn’t I?” Sameen said, giving into her wanton need to be a badass.

“Any of that left over?” Root asked, her eyes twinkling under arched eyebrows.

Shaw stared up at her and smiled. “I think I can manage a little something…,” she said smiling as she pushed Root backwards and pressed her shoulders until she fell on the couch.

Root made every attempt to get up, but the adrenaline was still rushing in Shaw’s veins as she straddled Root and anticipated her every move. Sameen now held Root’s wrists together over her head and pressed her body down.

“You don’t have a chance,” Shaw whispered in Root’s ear, making her moan with anticipation.

It seemed both women needed to feel the other’s body to make sure everything was over and okay.

Shaw needed Root to make love to her as proof she wasn’t angry that she failed her.

Root needed Shaw…period.

* * *

 

Upstairs, in the distant wing, Janine woke with a start when she heard the crashing of dishes.  Bear moaned his concerned, but she petted his head to assure him.  Screams and loud moans erupted as the lovemaking moved from the couch to the dining room table. 

“Everything is okay,” Janine assured Bear.   

Sameen never told her to leave, so she stayed to comfort the dog who was totally shaken by Root being injured.  He spent well over an hour demonstrating what he would do if he ever caught those guys, by tearing several pillows apart. 

“I can tell you would be lethal,” Janine commented when she was ankle deep in pillow-stuffing. 

She made a friend for life that night. 


	90. Legend in Her Own Time

Sameen woke up exquisitely exhausted. Every muscle in her body felt the residual effects of having been pulled, pushed, or squeezed in glorious fashion last night. It was the perfect combination of her ego being high on how cool she had been, and Root… on fire. She looked over at Root, who still slept soundly. Sameen kissed her on the forehead and when she didn’t stir, she decided to go take a shower.

Sameen put the TV on in the large bathroom and watched the news as the image of the four men, duct taped in a circle, appeared on the screen. She listened as the reporter explained that the men were found that way by police, who were alerted by an anonymous caller. “YES!” she said and decided to play her victory song. It was an old favorite that Shaw listened to whenever she was especially proud of her performance. She put the earbuds in, blasted the music in her ears as she danced around, and got slowly undressed.

Now, you might think Shaw’s pump-up song would be something like; “ _Eye of the Tiger_ ”… or “ _We Are the Champions_ ’…but it wasn’t.

It was “ _Wake Me Up Before You Go Go_ ,” the 1984 hit by George Michael of Wham. It was a catchy tune whose melody encouraged clapping and hip swaying; both of which Sameen was heavily involved in at the moment.

And she was singing. At the top of her lungs.

* * *

To say that Sameen sang off key… was putting it mildly.

Her high notes were easily discernible to the canine entering the penthouse.

“What is it, Bear?” Janine asked when the two returned from his early morning walk. Her hand was wrapped around his leash, which meant – she went where he went.

He heard a different kind of moaning coming from the bedroom than he heard last night when Janine assured him everything was better than okay. He dashed up the stairs, his new playmate in tow, and pushed the bedroom and then the bathroom doors open. Janine was quietly begging him to stop; at least long enough for her to unravel her hand, but rescuing Shaw was becoming a hobby of his.  
And he pretty much decided she needed to be rescued from whatever was making her screech like that!

“Wake me up, before you go go…” Shaw belted out as she jerked her hips from right to left. “Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo. Wake me up before you go go, I don't want to miss it when you hit that high.” She threw her head back to reach that particular high note.

Janine was _so_ surprised by the song, that it took a second for her to realize Sameen’s state of undress.

The woman, who had faced four armed men last night and never flinched, screamed when she turned around and saw the first intruder. She grabbed the towel nearest to her, holding it against her body. The towel covered some things, but not others.

She had warned the canine about simply walking in on her in the bathroom. “BEAR!” Sameen yelled, and turned to rip the earbuds out of her ears and put her phone down. She turned back to see what…or rather _who_ …was attached to the other end of his leash.

“What are you…?” Shaw asked, and tried to stretch the fabric to cover her breasts.

“I’m sorry…,” Janine said, and lifted her arm to show she wasn’t there by choice. “My God…,” she couldn’t help but say when she saw Sameen’s incredibly toned body. She had seen parts of it…her arms, her shoulders, but never all of it…like this.

There was stillness in the room.

“HEL-LO!” Shaw said, uncomfortable that four eyes were looking her up and down.

“Oh!” Janine said, realizing her rudeness. “I’m sorry, it’s just I was taking Bear for a walk, and he heard something and came running up the stairs,” she explained. She tried to look away, but her eyes wouldn’t cooperate.

Bear howled that he wouldn’t have done that, but he was _certain_ Sameen was in pain. He kept looking around for what the cause could have been.

“I-was-singing!” she bent over a little and explained to the dog. “I didn’t need to be rescued.”

He howled his question to her.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Shaw remarked.

“It’s great how you understand him,” Janine commented, her head turned, but her eyes still locked on Shaw.

“Would…you two…?” Sameen said, closing her eyes and pointing to the door.

“Oh! Yes,” Janine said, pulling the dog who was annoyed he missed out on an opportunity for another trophy.

“And if you tell anyone about… that song? I’ll have to kill you,” Shaw promised.

“I would never!” Janine said, pronouncing her devotion.

“I wasn’t talking to you…,” Shaw said, looking right into Bear’s eyes.

* * *

Janine pulled with all her might and closed the door, backing into the spacious bedroom. “Wow,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. She had never seen anyone who was as in good a shape as her boss. It took a second before she realized Root was sitting up in bed, staring at her.

“Oh! Ms. Groves!” she said, walking towards the bed as Bear dragged her again. He jumped up to lie next to Root so she could pet him. “He’s been so worried,” she said and finally unleashed herself.

“You stayed?” Root asked her first question.

“Well, Shaw never told me to leave and when the two of you went out, I stayed to be with Bear. I hope you don’t mind,” she said sincerely.

“No, thank you. I guess in our haste, Sameen forget to tell you,” Root said, smiling and hugging Bear who whimpered how much he missed her.

“And you were up here?” came Root’s second question.

“I took him for a walk and when we came back, he heard something awful, and dragged me up here before I could get loose. Shaw was… singing,” she explained.

Bear confirmed it and added his own interpretation.

“She does not sing off key,” Root admonished him.

“We barged right in on …,” and Janine looked back and pointed to the door.

“I heard,” Root said…and waited.

“I’ve never seen anyone…I mean, I didn’t mean to look, but I was right there…she was there,” Janine said, the blush erupting on her cheeks.

“I understand,” said the woman who wasn’t threatened at all. “Your reaction is quite understandable.”

“It is?” Janine asked. “Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to offend …anyone.”

“I know,” Root smiled, thinking anyone with a pulse would find her girlfriend hot.

“I’m going to go now,” Janine said, making her way across the room to the door.

“Stay for breakfast,” Root suggested. “And thank you for taking such good care of Bear.”

Janine nodded and walked outside, banging her head lightly against the closed door for her faux pas.

* * *

“Everybody loves Shaw; right Bear?” Root cooed in a baby voice that made the dog get all excited and jump around the bed.

“Are you playing with him on my side of the bed?” Shaw yelled as she got ready to come out.

“No!” Root lied and made the dog get down.

Shaw came out and looked at how tangled the blanket and sheets were on her side of the bed. “You let him up here, didn’t you?” she asked, crossing her arms. Bear immediately protested about how he had saved her. “If you don’t leave,” Shaw threatened, “I’ll sing.”

Root had never seen the dog leap up, put his mouth on the doorknob to open the door, and leave so quickly.

“So, Janine said it was …good to _see_ you,” Root teased.

“Do you believe that!” Shaw bellowed.

“Well, it’s not her fault. You didn’t give her the command to leave last night,” Root said as she pulled Sameen down on the bed.

“I’ve got to be more careful with her,” Shaw thought out loud.

“She’s like your devoted… pet,” Root said, pulling Sameen’s long strands of hair gently.

“No she’s …don’t say that!” Shaw said, unnerved just as Root anticipated.

“You are so predictable, Shaw,” she laughed and made Shaw bothered.

“Take that back,” Shaw said, jumping up and straddling Root and holding her down. “Take that back,” she warned as Root laughed and cried that she wouldn’t. “You better take that back or you’ll be sorry,” Sameen threatened.

She should have known better than to issue a punishment to Root.

“Really?” Root asked, pushing her head up, her eyes glazing over with eagerness. “What will you do?” the captured woman wondered, biting her lower lip.

Sameen looked down in exasperation. “You’re not supposed to look forward to consequences,” she felt she needed to explain.

“Oh, but I do,” Root said, unable to control her imagination.

* * *

Root knew there was a fine line between enticing her lover to carry through and annoying the life out of her. So, she tried to control her questions as they made their way downstairs.

“I didn’t take it back,” she made sure Sameen noted. Root’s tongue couldn’t stay in her mouth as she teased her.

“Okay, you want to play? I’m going to come up with the perfect punishment, Root,” Shaw said by her ear.

Root squealed with delight.

“You’re _not_ supposed to….,” Shaw was explaining when Root practically skipped into the kitchen. “Our kids will be wild,” she said to herself without thinking.

* * *

“Good morning, everyone!” Root sang as she entered and grabbed Isabelle and twirled her around.

“Oh, my stars!” Isabelle laughed and went right along with it.

“Isn’t this a wonderful morning,” Root asked and sat down at the counter.

Sameen shook her head. “I should know better than to start this…,” she lamented as she walked in.

“Well, it’s a safer one,” Isabelle added. “Those terrible men were caught last night.”

“They weren’t caught,” Shaw felt the need to elaborate. “They were single handedly apprehended,” she said proudly.

Isabelle looked at Sameen and then back at Root, who was biting her finger with excitement and nodding. “You?” Isabelle asked, her mouth agape.

“I knew it!” Janine said. “As soon as I saw you go out, I thought you two were up to something wonderful!”

“Weren’t you afraid?” Isabelle asked, but was looking at Root.

“Not as long as I had Sameen with me,” Root said.

“But it is so dangerous,” Isabelle worried. “They said they were…shot.”

“Yeah, well, that was unavoidable,” Shaw said, clearing her throat.

“I worry about you two,” the chef said as she put the food out for breakfast.

Root wasn’t so preoccupied that she didn’t remember to motion to Shaw.

“WHAT?” Shaw mouthed because she couldn’t read eyebrow-expression that early.

Root repeated her action.

Shaw shook her head at the insistent repetition… and guessed. Root was always thinking of others, so Sameen figured it was about Isabelle, Bear, or Janine.

“Thank you for a lovely breakfast?” Shaw asked, looking at Root.

Nope, that wasn’t it.

Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to figure out what Root was suggesting. It was narrowed down to Janine and Bear.

“I’m not mad that Root let you leave dog hairs all over my side of the bed?” she guessed.

“Silly,” Root whispered as she sipped her tea.

That narrowed it down further. “Hey look,” Sameen started looking at Janine and then quickly back at Root to see if she got it. Root’s eyes smiled and Shaw knew she was on the right track. “Thanks for watching Bear last night. I know he can be truly annoying and self-centered…,” and Root cleared her throat to indicate that wasn’t the point. “But I appreciate you staying with him.”

Janine appreciated Shaw’s gratitude, but was still embarrassed. “I’m so sorry…” she started and Shaw finally got it.

“Oh, hey…not a problem. Remember the first time I met you? I stripped you practically naked, so we’re even,” Shaw smiled, as Isabelle’s eyes widened.

“Oh! Right!” Janine said and was very much relieved.

Shaw looked over at Root and there it was… the smiling eyes that told her what a great job she had done.

* * *

Over in Brooklyn, a very tired Detective Jackson arrived for work. “Anything on the evidence last night?” she asked, but was told it was too soon. She sat down with her coffee and looked at her screen. The news of the bandits was replaying over and over.

“ _Christmas came early for the NYPD this year,_ ” the reporter said as he talked about the men ‘ _gift wrapped_ ’ for the police.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this, and that the call to her wasn’t a lark. It was personal. Someone _wanted_ her to see their handiwork.

 _Who_ , she wondered, had a big enough ego that they would want her to witness their accomplishment?

It was a very short list.


	91. Make Yourself Comfortable

Janine watched her favorite couple saunter into the BEAR building in perfect unison, and was certain she had never seen any two people as cool as they were. She attempted to whip her sunglasses out and put them on, the way her two bosses did in harmony, but she nearly poked her eye out.

Even that… they were cool at.

In the few minutes it took them to go upstairs in the elevator, Root and Shaw decided not to advertise that it had been Sameen who single handedly caught the four men. Janine swore her allegiance, even though it was unnecessary.

Shaw pointed her two fingers at her eyes and then down at Bear, but he was next to Root and tended to fear Shaw even less when Root was by his side.

* * *

Shaw was content to sit at her desk and listen to the water-cooler speculation about who could have captured the four men. A couple of people asked Sameen if she was glad that they caught the culprits who robbed her mother. She simply nodded and went back to work. She gave the majority of the coworkers, who admired the mystery vigilante, thumbs up…even though she was sitting quietly at her desk.

Only one person came right out and accused her of being the one who did it.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” came the accusation, and there wasn’t anything positive in her tone.

Sameen swung around to see her sister in the doorway. Her expression was hard as she stared at Sameen.

“What?” Shaw said and pulled her sister in to sit down; making sure no one heard her.

“You went back. The machine helped you locate them and you went back with Root and got them,” Ayala said and this time …. No, it was still in a loud voice.

“Keep it down, would you?” Sameen asked nicely.

“I knew it!” Ayala said annoyed. “Mommy thought you were too smart to do that and endanger Root’s life…,” is all she got out.

“Look,” Sameen said, getting really close to Ayala’s face. “I would never put Root in danger. I tried to talk her out of it, but apparently, she’s more stubborn than she looks. And, I might add, she handles a gun better than you. Well, she likes to use two guns,” Shaw said, looking aside, lost in thought about how hot Root looked when firing two weapons.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Ayala asked and now Shaw could hear the irritation in her voice.

“Call you? To do what?” Sameen asked genuinely confused.

“Go with you!” and the tone definitely indicated she was annoyed.

“Why would I want you to go with me?” Shaw asked sincerely.

“Oh, so, _you’re_ the only one who can take care of family business?” Ayala asked mockingly.

“Wait. What? What family business?” Shaw asked because the younger sibling was confusing her.

“You had to be the big shot and avenge mommy’s attack. You couldn’t call me and ask me to come? I can more than handle myself and you know it,” Ayala said defiantly, sounding very much like a younger sibling trying to impress their elder.

Of all the things that Ayala just said, _one_ word stuck with Sameen.

“ _Mommy_?” she asked, thinking the term might be childish.

Ayala got it right away. “That’s not the point. The point is I could have helped you.”

“You wanted me to stop and call you; to invite you to the ass-kicking; is that it?” Shaw asked, to be clear.

“No offense to Root, but I can handle hand-to-hand combat better than she can,” Ayala said, her pride obviously involved.

“There was no hand-to-hand combat; she ate apples,” Shaw said, looking around to make sure no one heard her.

“What?” Ayala asked because she thought maybe that was code for something.

“I handled them. There was no need for Root to get involved, although I have no doubt that she would have shot them if I needed help,” Sameen said, smiling.

Annoyed that she had acted on impulse to tell her older sister that she could have helped her, Ayala was left feeling frustrated, with only one option. “Fine, but I’ll telling mom….,” she stopped short.

“Telling her what? Shaw asked not used to sibling fighting.

“That you went off to avenge her honor… alone,” Ayala said, but it still sounded heroic.

Shaw stared at the younger woman who was obviously upset that she was left out. “Are you… always going to be this annoying?” Shaw asked earnestly. “Because I’m going to make Fusco adopt you, if you are. He owes me.”

Ayala stared back at her sister, unable to express that she felt concern that she put herself in such danger and could have asked for help. But she didn’t have that rapport with Shaw yet. So, instead, she asked; “Are you always going to be this obnoxious?”

“You can count on it,” Shaw said, truthfully.

“I’m still telling Mommy,” Ayala said, playing the only card she had before walking out.

“I hope I’m not grounded!” Shaw yelled out to her laughing.

“You know, it’s okay to ask for help,” Ayala lectured as she walked out, and even though she struggled with the same issue.

Then, Shaw had a brilliant idea. She jumped up from her seat and went after Ayala. “Yes! Yes it is! And I will help you get the help you need,” Shaw said excitedly, and pulled her by the elbow.

“Help for what?” the woman protested and suddenly Martine was in the aisle, unsure of what to do.

“It’s okay,” Shaw said to the worried girlfriend. “This will actually help take that edge off of her,” she promised.

Martine didn’t say a word, but got out of the way. She was not getting in between those two sisters. Ayala tried to pull away, but Shaw’s grip proved to be tighter than she imagined. Shaw hauled her sister down the hallway, stopping to grab some cable cords off the IT cart.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ayala demanded to know as she and her sister finally stopped outside an office door.

“Getting you help. Trust me, okay?” Shaw said to her sister.

“Trust is overrated?” Ayala said slowly.

“Yeah, okay, you can start with _that_ ,” Shaw explained.

“I don’t need your help,” her sister protested.

“No, but you need _hers_ ,” Shaw said and opened the door and pushed her sister through. She slammed the door shut and wrapped the computer wire around the doorknob and pulled it to tie to the desk. The whole time, Ayala was pulling on the doorknob, to open it.  
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” she shouted to her sister when she realized the woman had managed to secure the door.

* * *

“Hello,” came a very calm, sweet voice behind Ayala.

She turned quickly to see the woman standing now in front of her desk. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize there was someone in here,” Ayala said and tried to door again.

“Is it stuck?” the woman asked.

“No, it’s not stuck. My stupid sister has tied it shut,” Ayala said. “I’ll get us out of here,” she promised, but her tugs at the door did nothing.

“My name is Iris Campbell,” the pleasant woman said, and started to get what this might be. “Is Sameen Shaw your sister, per chance?”

“Ayala Morin,” the woman introduced herself. “And yes, that maniac is related to me. A little.”

Just then, Ayala’s phone beeped and she read the text from her sister. “You’re a shrink?” she asked, insulted that Sameen thought she needed this.

“Yes,” Iris said and shrugged her shoulders.

“ _You’re_ the woman my sister thinks so highly of?” the younger woman asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t know about that,” Iris said sincerely.

“She thinks you have this uncanny knack for getting things out of people. Like a trained CIA agent or something,” Ayala shared.

Iris smiled because it sounded like something Shaw would say. “Why do you think Sameen felt it was so important that you come in here?”

“Because she’s a pain? Because she wants to have her way all the time? Because she’s bossy?” Ayala answered and walked over to the couch. “May I?” she asked.

“Please,” Iris said and took the seat across from her.

“I’m not staying for me,” Ayala clarified. “But maybe you can help me to understand that woman,” she suggested.

“Perhaps,” Iris said, because she would never talk about Shaw to anyone. She would, however, listen to Ayala talk about her sister.

“You should know that I lived in that woman’s shadow for years,” Ayala thought was a good place to start.

“Was that hard?” Iris asked.

“Hell, yes!” Ayala answered and sat back. “She’s like a freaking legend. Bad enough my mother always talked about her, but when I was in the military special ops, they talked about an American CIA agent that was so fierce and so swift, they thought she was made up. It wasn’t until I saw a picture of her did I realize… that was the woman my mother had been watching for years!”

* * *

For the next hour, Ayala shared her feelings about her sister and Iris knew they came from a place of admiration, and a fear that she would never measure up to her older sister. It was the same for siblings separated, as it was for those who grew up in the same house; they wanted each other’s respect.

“Do you think you can share any of this with your sister?” Iris asked, never once calling her by her name.

“No,” Ayala answered because she was still navigating this relationship. “We’re both very… stubborn,” she smiled and Iris could see the similarity in that facial expression.

Ayala stood up and thanked the woman for the impromptu visit. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt much calmer than when she first walked in. Iris was walking her to the door when it burst open.

“She’s got other people to see, you know,” Shaw said, waving her finger, having untied the door after what she determined to be an appropriate length of time.

“Did I mention how bossy she is?” Ayala turned back and asked Iris.

Except this time, she was smiling.


	92. Normal Day at the Office

Sameen smiled her thanks at Iris and pulled her sister out of the office. “Are you walking me to my car?” the younger sister asked when Sameen hadn’t let go of her. As far as the older woman was concerned, she had just given Ayala an opportunity of a lifetime.

“You’re feeling better, right?” Sameen asked knowingly.

"Yes, I do feel….,” her sister was about to agree, but Sameen already knew the answer.

“Told you. Hey, you didn’t happen to tell her you were vegan, did you? Because I would really like that fixed,” Shaw said and was only half kidding.

“We talked about _you_ ,” Ayala said and waited for her sister to take the bait. She was starting to understand her sibling.

“Me? What do I have to do with any of your issues? You should have talked about you and your problems,” Shaw countered; annoyed she had to explain that.

“Another time, perhaps,” Ayala said and Shaw didn’t like the sound of that.

“ _Another_ time? No, no, no. Once, that’s… you can’t use the BEAR therapist,” Shaw said, thinking this was a one-time deal.

“I think as a consultant, I could,” Ayala reasoned just to annoy her bossy sister.

“What? We’ll see about that,” Shaw said, not so comfortable sharing Iris.

“You told me yourself, she sees _other people_ , so I assume she’s not just there for you?” the younger woman asked.

“What?” Shaw asked, unable to get herself out of this mess she created.

* * *

Just then, as Shaw’s luck would have it, Fusco was walking down the hallway, humming. And he was humming the song Bear heard Sameen singing this morning.

“What are you singing?” she bellowed as he approached and said hello.

“A song? Geesh, I know I sing badly, Shaw, but you can still recognize the tune,” he said defensively.

“I think you sounded great,” Ayala said, because she was catching on that her best defense was just to be on the opposite side of the issue with Sameen.

“Well, thanks for stopping by and all, but don’t you have a _mommy_ to look after?” Shaw snarked.

“I’m going with her to see the townhouse that Ms. Groves recommended,” Ayala said. Then, she turned to her sister. “I’m sorry about jumping all over you before. I just thought you could call me if you ever needed help.” Leaving Sameen speechless because she said something so sincere was not Ayala’s goal, and she took it as her cue to say goodbye.

* * *

“Sweet kid,” Fusco said and drew an angry stare. “What did she do, Shaw? Take some of your candy? We got bigger fish to fry than you sibling rivalry,” he informed his friend and pulled her into her cubicle.

“One,” Sameen said, very unsure of how she felt about that sisterly affection, “…she’s not sweet. Two, what are you doing here?”

Fusco knew exactly what was going on with his friend because he had seen how hard it was for her to handle when someone was sincere with her. “I am hoping,” he whispered and looked around, “…that you didn’t use your weapon last night because someone is very interested in finding that piece of info out.”

“I didn’t. Those men provided all the ammo I needed,” Shaw said with a smirk.

“Oh, I bet you were something, Shaw,” Fusco said enthusiastically. He was acting, but for a purpose. He was testing his friend.

“I was, Fusco, I really was. Now, why are you here?” Shaw asked again.

“Because I don’t want to see you get in trouble with a certain detective from Brooklyn and if I were a betting man, which I ain’t any more since playing cards with you, I’d say she’s smarter than she looks, and she looks pretty smart, if you ask me,” he said all in one breath.

“I’ll roll out the red carpet when she comes,” Shaw said, dismissing the notion.

“Oh, and tell Captain Crunch that I heard from someone that there’s a lot of chatter going on about a powerful machine and they’re looking for it,” he said, looking around.

“What?” Shaw said, standing up and pulling him in closer by his collar.

“Yeah, I got a buddy in counter surveillance. It sounded like someone is looking for the machine,” Fusco said and Shaw pushed him out of his way to go upstairs. But before she got on the elevator, she grabbed her sister, who was talking to Martine.

“Get home to her, now. Do not leave her side and I want you to check in with Martine, every half hour. Reese!” Shaw shouted and he came immediately. Then, Fusco joined them as she went upstairs.

* * *

Shaw burst into Root’s office, an action that only made Root smile even more. “Hi, kids,” Root greeted the trio as they came in.

“Root, someone’s looking for the machine,” Shaw said and that caught Root’s attention.

“A buddy in counter surveillance said they heard chatter about it,” Fusco explained.

Root immediately tapped a few keys on her computer.

“What is she doing?” Fusco whispered, but no one answered. “Where is she keeping this thing, anyways? Or do I not want to know?”

“I have a building on Lexington Avenue and 30th Street,” Root said out loud. “It’s an old library with an apartment. We could use that.”

“Secure?” the tall man of few words asked.

“It could be,” Root answered.

“What about power?” Shaw asked.

“There are a couple of generators there,” Root said, thinking this was the perfect place; the more she talked about it. “And that would keep it off the grid.”

“So, you’re moving the machine?” Fusco asked, to be sure.

“And Azar,” Root said.

“My mother? Didn’t you just put her in a townhouse uptown?” Shaw asked.

“If someone is looking for the machine, it’s possible they’re looking for your mother. I think we should put them together. The machine will want to look out for her and if we move her uptown, it’s possible the machine will lead someone to her anyway,” Root theorized.

“I want her protected,” Shaw said and she was looking at everyone in the room. “My sister will be with her,” she told them.

“We can offer some assistance, I’m sure,” Reese said because his night shift team was among the best.

“Thanks,” Shaw said.

“I’ll keep tabs on my buddy and keep you posted,” Lionel said and Root smiled warmly and thanked him.

* * *

The men left, leaving Shaw to pace as Root thought through the steps. “Who the hell is this? I will kill them if they hurt her,” Shaw said, unaware of how easily she was sharing her affection for her mother because it was cloaked in her usual “I will kill someone” demeanor.

“I know, sweetie, but I think this might be a good solution,” Root said and pulled Sameen to the desk. She showed her the building schematics and how well insulated it was. “They could live on the top floor which is bigger than the townhouse,” Root said.

“Do you ever buy anything … small?” Shaw asked.

Root smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “As for who is doing this? Well, that could be anyone who wants the capability of having this much power at their fingertips,” Root said concerned.

“Won’t they just want to get at my mother?” Shaw asked.

“Well, if they are keeping taps on her, they’ll eventually notice she’s not doing anything with the machine. She did say they left her alone because they thought she sold it. So, it’s possible they’ll just be looking for the machine’s signature. Which they won’t find because she’s in my hands now,” Root smiled. “I invented a cloaking device that no one else has seen, as far as I know.”

“Like Harry Potter?” Shaw asked.

“Almost,” Root laughed. “It breaks down her activity into smaller signals so that anyone seeing it would think it’s a video game console or a regular desktop.”

“So, you really are a genius,” Shaw smiled, feeling relieved that her mother was in Root’s hands.

“Some days,” Root grinned. “Don’t worry, Sameen. We’ll protect her with you.”

“Okay, good,” Shaw said uneasy with the emotions that were coming at her.

But therein lay the beauty of Root. She sensed what Sameen was thinking, so she didn’t have to say it. “I know,” Root said, and leaned into Shaw. She went back to her seat, typed in a few more commands and set the plan into motion.

With a touch of a few keys, the machine began readying itself to transfer its core heuristics to the new equipment in the new location.

All of this was of great relief to Sameen. She watched at Root orchestrated the new plan without no change in her demeanor. It seemed her girlfriend possessed the same grace in a crisis, as she did when things were calm.

“How do you do it?” Sameen asked, because it truly puzzled her.

“Do what?” Root asked.

“You’re always so... composed,” Shaw explained.

“Well, I think about you,” Root said truthfully, but Sameen shook her head.

“I suspect you were like this _long_ before you knew me,” Shaw pointed out.

“I’ve always known you,” Root said sincerely.

It was things like this that caught Sameen off guard. She didn’t know how to respond to statements like this. Except with her usual sarcasm.  “And you still hired me anyway?” she smirked.

“I didn’t hire you, silly,” Root said, tapping the keys as she spoke. “You finally came into my life.”

“Okay,” Shaw said because she knew this was not a verbal back and forth she would ever win. Root was too committed for that.

“Well, I think we should explain this all to your mother later. How about we invite them to dinner?” Root asked.

“Sure,” Sameen said, because Root was calling the shots now and she trusted her. “I’ll call them.”

“Great and, Sweetie?” Root said because she had been communicating with the machine.

“Yes?” Shaw asked as she was leaving.

“Detective Jackson is on her way to see you. Do you want me to come down?” Root asked nonchalantly.

“No, I got this,” Shaw smiled and thanked her.

Root smiled as Sameen left and then looked back at her screen. She leaned into her screen to read the communique from the machine. Using the vernacular she had been studying, the machine wrote:

“She _so_ doesn’t got this.”

“Are you sure?” she typed back.

“One hundred percent,” the machine answered.


	93. Off the Record

When Shaw said she _had something_ , she meant it; and she didn’t like to be doubted. Root hesitated a minute before following Sameen outside. “Sweetie, when you say you… _have this_ … with the detective…,” and she stopped.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, wondering what the question could possibly be.

“I don’t think we have any more cards to play with this woman,” Root said.

“Okay,” Shaw replied, not quite understanding.

“So, you know,” Root said, getting closer and playing with Sameen’s hair. “Let’s keep her in the dark on the gift…in the park….in Brooklyn.”

“Sure,” Sameen said and started to walk away. P _eople wouldn’t think you’re tough if they see your girlfriend playing with your hair in the hallway_. “I got this,” she smiled confidently, as the elevator door closed. 

Root stuck her finger in her mouth and bit down; caught between the very accurate machine and the love of her life. She didn’t doubt which side she was on, of course, but she hated for Sameen to have trouble with this woman.

* * *

There was little in this world that Fusco wouldn’t do for his friend, including making a spectacle of himself as he danced back and forth, preventing Detective Jackson from walking any further towards Shaw’s cubicle. “You just can’t stay out of my borough,” he laughed, placing his square like shape in front of her.

The woman stared at him. “I’m here on official business,” she reminded him.

“You don’t say,” Fusco said and realized he had run out of things to say. “I gave it a shot,” he murmured as he stepped aside.

The fact that all the lab tests came back inconclusive regarding fingerprints on the gun and the tape did not deter the detective. It was her business to uncover things that others would miss. The machine may have been able to tap into databases and misdirect info on purpose, but it couldn’t change the four men’s replay of what happened. All four of them told the police they were accosted by a short woman, very strong and angry. Sameen had remembered to wear a hat and hid her face as best she could, until she talked to the leader. She was hell bent on letting him know who she was. When they asked the men to pick their attacker out of a page of suspects, they couldn’t. The leader was not about to identify the woman who beat the four of them. It would spell trouble for them when there were in jail.

“Detective Jackson,” Sameen greeted her in a friendly voice.

“Oh, this is not good,” Fusco said and wasn’t sure where he should go to hear this. He walked into Janine’s office and put his finger to his lip. “Your boss is going to hang herself,” he said and worried the assistant.

“What can we do?” Janine asked.

“Listen and weep,” Fusco said, because he couldn’t think of anything that would help.

“I’m here on official business,” the older woman announced to make sure Shaw knew that.

“Funny, I thought you guys just like to hang out here, seeing how often you’re here,” Shaw pointed out and both Fusco and Janine cringed.

“Remind me to get her a copy of ‘ _How to Win Friends and Influence People_ ’,” Fusco whispered. Janine reached over to her keyboard and with a few strokes, the book was ordered. Lionel realized he had to be careful what he said to the overzealous aid.

“I’m helping the guys in robbery work that case of the four guys wrapped up in the park,” Jackson said and noticed Sameen’s smile.

“Nice of you to lend a hand,” Sameen noted and then realized the detective was sitting down uninvited. “O…kay,” Sameen said, figuring she might as well sit down, too.

“Well, I help out now and then. Especially when I’m in awe of the handiwork of the person who did this kind of thing,” Jackson said and Fusco swore he could hear the line being cast with the bait.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, thinking it was something to be admired.

“You see…,” the woman said, sitting a little closer, “…the way I see it, the person was _clever_ enough to figure out where these guys would be at just the right time. Then, they were _swift_ enough to take care of four men; four big guys with no help.”

“How do you figure that?” Shaw couldn’t help but ask.

“One set of smaller shoe prints,” the detective made up. “Anyway, like I said, they were smart, fast and had to be damn strong. Oh, and good with a gun, because they used the perps’ own weapons.”

“Yeah?” Shaw said, not taking any of the bait.

“Oh, thank God,” Fusco let out and Janine squeezed his hand.

“Of course…,” Jackson said, sitting back now. “Clever or not, they made one mistake.”

“They always do,” Shaw said because of course, they were not supposed to be talking about her.

“Yes, even the careful ones,” Jackson said and smiled.

“And you stopped in to tell me this….why?” Shaw asked, her heart beat steady as it had been.

“Because I’m going to bring your sister in for questioning,” Jackson informed her.

“What?” Shaw said and she sounded as insulted as she looked.

“Your sister. She spoke to the leader of the gang. She told him it was because of the robbery the night before with your mother. Open and shut case of avenging a family wrong,” Jackson said, getting up.

“My sister was with my mother. You can ask them,” Shaw said.

“Well, your mother would offer an alibi, I’m sure,” the detective said, reeling the proverbial line in slowly.

“I guess you’ll want to know where I was?” Shaw said, thinking she was a step ahead of the cop.

“You?” Jackson asked. “No.”

“No?” Shaw asked, trying to sound calm.

“Well, this took someone with excellent training in hand-to-hand combat; someone who wasn’t just fast, they were damn fast, and someone… in really good shape,” she said slowly, “…like you probably were in your twenties.”

“Are you freaking kidding me? I could snap my sister in two, run faster than her anytime and I’m in much better shape, any day any time,” Shaw bellowed.

“Oh, geez,” Fusco said and shook his head.

Of all the angles Jackson could have taken, she took the one that led to Shaw’s ego.

“Is that a confession, Shaw?” the Detective asked, sitting back down.

“Of course not!” Shaw barked. “It’s proof that you are barking up the wrong tree.”

“Here’s how I see it,” Jackson started and proceed to outline everything that she imagined happening, including Root being there with her (she knew they were rarely apart), and how Shaw did the work herself (It was her mother, so she would want to handle the men herself), and suggested she had help because of how screwed up the test results were. “No cameras working, no sign of your car coming in or out of Brooklyn either,” she noted.

Shaw did not want her sister implicated in this, especially since her number one job right now was to watch over Azar. “Okay, look,” Shaw said and now Janine was up on her chair, looking over, undetected. “What would you do if four thugs accosted your mother and hit your girlfriend? Damn straight I was going to find them and take care of business. But what purpose does it serve to drag me into this? Why not leave it as a Good Samaritan doing the police's job… I mean, helping, helping out the police… this once?” Shaw said, fumbling her way through asking for forgiveness.

“I get it, Shaw. I’d want revenge, too, if someone touched my loved ones,” Jackson said, because she had already put herself in Shaw’s shoes to figure out what to do. “But we can’t take the law into our own hands. You know that,” the detective said and she sounded more like a friend than an interrogator.

“No handcuffs… yet,” Janine leaned back and whispered to Fusco.

“See?” Shaw said, smiling. “You understand. It was Root and my mother, for God’s sake. I had to pay them back. And, I helped clean up the streets for you ….a little,” Shaw said, trying to sound modest.

_Jackson had gotten what she came for; Shaw’s confession on a silver plate. How come she didn’t feel satisfied? Why was she hesitating to haul Shaw in like every rule in the book dictated?_

“Jesus, Shaw!” the woman cursed. “Why do you make my job a living hell?”

“Shaw’s winning her over,” Janine announced to Fusco who finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Hell? I helped you,” Shaw said, unable to take any criticism. “I practically gift wrapped; well, actually I did…,” Sameen smiled, thinking back to what they looked like. Then, she caught the unamused expression on the detective’s face.

“You lucked out, Shaw. No cameras working at the toll booths and in the park? On the same night? That doesn’t sound suspicious to you?” she asked and Sameen shrugged her shoulders. “When they copied the picture the sketch artist did of your description, it didn’t look anything like you. Isn’t that odd?” she asked again.

Again, Sameen pursed her lips and shook her head.

“I asked you to stay out of my borough and you promised,” Jackson reminded her.

“Hey, if they had stayed in Manhattan, I would have left them for the Manhattan cops,” Shaw pointed out thinking it was a very valid point.

“Why not just sign your name to that confession, Shaw?” the cop asked. Then, she put her head down and thought.

“What are they doing?” Fusco asked because there was dead silence.

“She’s thinking,” Janine said. “And Shaw is just staring at her.”

“Okay, Shaw, I’ll play this your way. I can’t prove you were there, so I’ll be on my way.” With that, the woman stood up and started to leave.

“She’s leaving,” Janine whispered.

“But I’m not letting you off, Shaw or you’ll be damn tempted to come into my borough and try and solve murders. And I am not having that, unless you want to make the list,” the woman threatened.

“No, we’re good,” Shaw said, thinking she had no interest in doing this woman’s job, but if she did, she’d be damn good at it. “I’ve got a lot to do here …”

“Something tells me, Shaw, that you had help,” Jackson said, turning around to face Sameen.

“No, no help. I did that all…,” Shaw tried, but was interrupted.

“You and Groves are inseparable,” the cop noted.

“Well, since we’re not pursuing this, that doesn’t matter, does it?” Shaw countered.

“I’m not sure even she would mess with city property like cameras,” Jackson said.

“Root? Never, no she wouldn’t mess with that,” Sameen said.

“She sounds believable, right?” Janine asked Fusco.

“It’s like you were off the grid that night,” Jackson thought out loud. “Would take something big to be able to do that.” The woman was good at her job, and looked at things from every angle.

“Yeah, I guess,” Shaw said, not giving an inch.

“I’ll see you Saturday then, PAL fields in Bayridge,” Jackson said, nonchalantly.

“Okay, wait, what?” Shaw asked, and now was following her guest out.

“Police Athletic League fields, Bayridge,” the woman answered and annoyed Sameen with the repetition.

“Why do people repeat what they just said when you say you didn’t understand?” Shaw asked annoyed. “What are you talking about?”

“Community service, Shaw. You’re going to teach young girls a class on self-defense,” Jackson explained, pressing the elevator button.

“No, I’m not,” Shaw said plainly.

“You didn’t think I’d just let you come into Brooklyn, mess around however you please, and then taunt us by gift wrapping those guys, did you?” Jackson asked.

“I…,” Sameen started, but could kind of, sort of, see her point… a little.

“Good,” the detective said victoriously. “See you at nine sharp.”

With that, the elevator door closed, as Sameen was still trying to form words to expression her disgust, displeasure and anger. “I…,” was all that came out before she just stood there and groaned.

* * *

“What are you doing?” Fusco asked as Janine typed furiously at the keyboard.

“Shaw’s giving a class. We need to go support her. She’ll need Team Shaw t-shirts and food,” Janine thought through.

Fusco shook his head and went out to see Sameen.

“Why does that woman hate me?” Shaw asked Fusco.

“Hate you? I think she likes you. She’s pretty much bending the rules here, Shaw and that woman does not bend rules…ever. So, I think you worked your magic charm on her, but good.”

Sameen just stared up at him, as if she couldn’t understand him. “No, she hates me. If she liked me, I wouldn’t be going to a playdate Saturday morning!”

“Yeah, that’s a worse punishment than being dragged down for questioning,” Fusco pointed out sarcastically.

“Remind me again why we’re friends?” Shaw asked.

“Because I’m a glutton for punishment?” Lionel suggested. “Hey, see you Saturday,” he said as he was leaving, grateful that nothing happened to his friend.

“It’s for girls, Lionel,” Sameen pointed out.

“You…with kids? I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he laughed getting on the elevator.

“CAN WE PLEASE BAR THOSE TWO FROM EVER COMING HERE AGAIN?” Shaw yelled out to anyone who would listen.

“No,” Reese said, passing by.

* * *

Shaw’s tank of patience was on empty when she called her mother. “Dinner at our apartment, 8 o’clock and I’m not sitting next to the vegan.”

“Is everything alright, Sameen?” Azar asked, hearing the tension in her daughter’s voice.

“You’re moving,” Sameen said and hung up.


	94. Parameters

As soon as Root was alerted that the good detective had left the building, she made her way down to see her girlfriend. “How did it go?” Root asked and Sameen just looked at her. “That woman is insane,” she announced.

“How so?” Root asked, very interested.

“She got it out of me. Well, I had to tell her because she was way off track. Some detective. I mean, she was going to bring my sister in for questioning? I couldn’t have that. Not after the kid was so upset because I didn’t invite her on our trip and all,” Sameen explained.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Root said, thinking how Ayala wanted to be with her sister.

“It’s not _sweet_. Why does everyone thing she’s _sweet_?” Shaw asked. “If she were sweet, she would have told Doc how she’s a vegan and spent her time on dealing with whatever childhood trauma caused that to happen.“

Getting into a conversation with Sameen sometimes required you to buckle up because you were going on one hell of a ride. Root’s expression was the perfect balance of agreeing even though she had no idea what they were talking about. “Really,” she concurred.

“I was going to make your punishment sitting next to her tonight,” Shaw said, hoping to kill two birds with one action.

“That’s not the kind I had in mind,” Root said, because she didn’t want Shaw to confuse what this was really about.

“Too severe?” Shaw asked, missing the point.

“Not hands on enough,” Root explained and Shaw missed it again.

“Anyway, I told my mother to be there at 8. Let’s tell her as soon as she gets there that she’s moving. Then, we can eat and say goodbye,” Shaw thought it through.

“Then…,” Root said playing with Sameen’s hair, “…we can talk about my consequence?” There was such hope in Root’s voice that Sameen felt bad dashing it.

“I have to get up early tomorrow. Apparently, I am teaching a class in self-defense… _TO CHILDREN,_ thanks to Detective Jackson,” Shaw finally got around to explaining.

“How did that happen?” Root inquired.

“She was annoyed that I entered her territory,” Shaw said exasperated.

“And tied up four robbers like a gift?” Root smiled, proud of Shaw’s handiwork.

“Right? You’d think she’d appreciate it, but noooo,” she said, throwing her hands up.

“Well, we will make the most of it,” Root said because the whole thing included the only ingredient she needed to have fun. She did, however, believe it was Jackson who managed to punish both of them with one consequence.

“Maybe…,” Shaw started to think and all Root needed to know was in Sameen’s twinkling eyes.

“You’re not going to wrestle Detective Jackson,” Root said, shaking her head no.

“Why? She got me into this?” Shaw asked, thinking it was a great idea, as were most of hers.

“Are you familiar with the expression ‘ _thin ice_ ’?” Root laughed.

“I like to sleep in on Saturdays,” Shaw moaned.

“We’ll nap when we get back,” Root said and that appeased her grumpy girlfriend.

* * *

Later that night, as the hour drew near for their guests to arrive, Root decided to shore up Sameen for their visit. She took her jaw in her hands and kissed her long and hard, just seconds before the elevator door opened. It momentarily slowed Sameen down, allowing the greeting to be more cheerful.

“You okay?” Ayala asked when she came into the entryway.

Sameen still had her hand to her mouth as she raked her bottom lip with her teeth. The question broke her reverie. “What? Yes, okay, good,” Sameen answered, still lost in the sensation and hoping one of those words were the right answer.

The foursome approached the table and only then, did Sameen realize there was no getting away from the vegan. Bear greeted the women, especially Ayala, who had brought him a stuffed animal. He took the toy in his mouth and brought it back to show Sameen. “Decide who you want to sit near at dinner because she’ll give you fungus and I’ll give you steak.”

Bear knew exactly who to sit next to.

* * *

Isabelle brought dinner out to the table and placed a plate of stuffed peppers down in front of Ayala.

“She went to a lot of trouble,” Sameen said of the meal, but Isabelle said it was no trouble at all. Then, she placed the plates down in front of Azar and Root. Azar thanked the woman and complimented her culinary skills.

“I need two hands,” she winked at Shaw, explaining why her meal was last. Within seconds, she returned with the plate of filet Mignon, garlic mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli.

“I didn’t think you ate _anything_ green,” Ayala teased her sister. Sameen was enjoying the deliciously prepared beef to counter the comment.

* * *

When dinner was finished, the women adjourned in the living room for coffee and dessert.

“Okay, listen,” Sameen said, thinking it was time to get to the point. “You’re moving,” she said, pointing her empty fork at her mother, “…and you’re going with her,” she said, pointing at Ayala.

Root couldn’t help but purse her lips at the swift delivery of that update. Sameen looked at her, shaking her head like ‘ _what_?’

“We’re talking about mom moving into the townhouse uptown, yes?” Ayala asked to be sure.

“Nuh,” Sameen said, her mouth full of cake she was pretty sure she’d wrestle anyone for because it was so delicious.

“I don’t understand,” Azar said, putting her coffee cup down slowly.

“Our friend, Detective Fusco heard from a friend of his in surveillance that there has been some online chatter about finding a powerful machine. Now, it’s possible that they’re just looking, or it’s possible someone detected her signature, but either way, we thought it would be a good idea to relocate her to a building on Lex and 30th,” Root explained. “It’s a very secure location with its own generators. There’s a fully functional apartment on the top floor.”

“And you want me to live there?” Azar asked to be clear.

“We thought, if anyone is looking for the machine, they just might be looking for you. It would be a safe location for the time being,” Root said.

“And you’re going,” Sameen said, swallowing the last bite of cake. She put the plate down and looked around as if to conclude the meeting. “Okay?”

“Not okay,” Ayala said and Sameen looked right at Root.

“Thank you, Samantha,” Azar said and motioned for her youngest daughter to not speak.

“Okay, then,” Shaw said getting up from her seat, because she had a long day and wanted to go to bed.

“….but I’m not going,” Azar said and Sameen stopped her ascent and fell back down on the cushion.

“What?” Sameen asked, annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Sameen. I am not going to spend the rest of my life running and hiding. I just go my life back. I am not in charge of the machine anymore. I think you’re wise, Samantha, to house the machine in a secure location, but I do not need the same protection. I do appreciate it…,” Azar said, in her most polite voice.

“No, no, no,” Sameen said. “This was not a discussion, or a debate. I didn’t ask you if you’d like to go. We decided,” she declared and looked at Root.

“I’m not going,” Ayala said, having had enough of the clandestine lifestyle.

“ _You_ go where _she_ goes,” Shaw blatantly said, pointing her finger at her sister and her mother.

“You…and what army?” Ayala asked, having had enough of her dictatorial sister for one day.

“If she continues to talk to me like that, there’s going to be a problem,” Shaw barked, and first she looked at her mother, but then she looked over at Root. One of them should do something, she decided.

Root’s hand on Sameen’s knee was enough to keep her sitting, but Ayala was up out of her seat yelling how she wasn’t going to be told by anyone what to do. Azar stood up and touched her arm, asking her to please take her seat.

“She made me go to her shrink today,” she tattle told to her mother.

The two siblings began to argue until their mother asked them both to stop. “She started it,” Ayala said, out of the side of her mouth.

“You’re going,” Shaw declared because she was not used to anyone not accepting what she decreed. She came from a military background where plans were strategized, orders were given, and then carried out. There was no Q&A.

Root could see both sides of the issue, but knew who she wanted to be okay with all of this. “Perhaps,” she said, taking Sameen’s hand and looking at her, “…we could provide security at the townhouse.”  
She was looking at Sameen to ask her if she would be comfortable with that. “Fine,” Shaw relinquished, rolling her eyes.

“I would pay for any additional work you feel would be necessary,” Azar offered.

“Not necessary,” Root said and the woman insisted that she pay.

“You see where she gets it, right?” Shaw asked Root of the stubborn streak the women shared.

Both Azar and Root knew separating the siblings was probably the best idea, so Azar thanked them for a lovely dinner and got up to leave.

“Stay with her,” Shaw commanded, even though she had planned on making it a suggestion. Her voice just didn’t come in pleasant tones sometimes.

“You don’t have to tell me, you know,” Ayala pointed out.

“I know,” Shaw said, feeling bad that she sounded so bossy. “I just… worry,” she finally said the word.

Ayala was younger, but she was smart like her sister. She understood they were both traversing this family arrangement that was new to them. “I’ll be with her,” she assured her sister.

“If you… are going out or anything, just let me know so I can, you know, visit or something,” Shaw said.

“Okay,” Ayala said, both of them calmer now.

“Thank you, Samantha,” Azar said, touching her arm. “For everything.”

There was always a warm tone to the older woman’s voice and a knowing look in her eyes. Root always suspected she was thanking her for more than dinner. She always felt it had to do with Sameen. And Root always wanted to tell her – she would always be grateful to Azar for having the woman she loved.

* * *

Root waited until the elevator door closed, before she returned to Sameen who was on the couch, petting Bear, as he lay across her lap. “You are so lucky you don’t have siblings,” she was saying to him as the dog got up and went to bed. Root pulled Sameen over, to recline in her lap.

“Those women drain me. I was on undercover missions that were less exhausting than the two of them,” Sameen complained. Root gently massaged Sameen’s shoulder as she moved to get more comfortable in Root’s lap. “Don’t you find them just annoyingly stubborn?”

“Yes,” Root said, concentrating on getting Sameen to relax.

“They are so much alike,” Shaw said, her eyes getting heavy as she relaxed more and more. “I’m just going to stay here a minute,” Sameen said, her voice fading as she gave into sleep.

“Stay as long as you like,” Root whispered as she bent over and kissed Sameen’s cheek.

Root sat back in the stillness of the house as Sameen slept soundly. She grabbed her phone and updated the machine.

‘ _I will watch over her_ ,’ the message read.

‘There have to be parameters,’ Root typed back.

‘ _Parameters… mean limitations_ ,’ the machine stated.

‘Yes,’ Root responded.

She of all people understood how potentially powerful an all knowing program could be… without limits.


	95. Quelle Surprise

Sameen awoke in the same place she had blissfully fallen asleep, except she was covered with a blanket. “Did you…?” she asked looking up at Root who had been in the same position all night.

“Yes,” Root smiled and looked as if she had slept peacefully, in spite of her vertical stance.

“I’m sorry,” Shaw said, getting up.

“Don’t be, I loved having you so close,” Root smiled.

“How do you wake up so cheery?” Shaw mused, rubbing her eyes.

“I look at you,” Root said truthfully, making Shaw smile.

“Look, you don’t have to come today. I think this goes beyond any idea you might have had about consequence,” Shaw yawned.

“We _really_ need to review this topic,” Root thought she said in her head, but her lips had let it escape.

Shaw glanced out of the corner of her eye with a sly expression. “Oh, I _get_ what you want,” she said in a sultry voice that made Root’s heart skip a beat. She was moving slowly now.

“You do?” Root asked, but her voice squeaked at just the thought.

“Yes,” Sameen smiled. “You want me to take charge,” she said, pushing her hand along Root’s thigh. “You want to be tough…,” she said leaning in and saying it near her ear. Root closed her eyes and bit her lip, “…but playful. You want me to push you to the edge and make you beg,” Sameen guessed correctly.

“OH, MY GOD,” Root said, because Sameen had just won the Root category on Jeopardy.

“Oh, and you want me to make you scream,” Shaw said in a breathy tone. She may have acted like she didn’t get it, but when it came to Root, Shaw got it.

“How do you know…,” Root tried to counter, but her body had already given itself over.

One slow touch told Shaw she was right. She pulled Root’s clothes off roughly, but never once hurting her. She pushed Root down on the couch and straddled her, looking cocky but caring, and she allowed her foot to graze a tender spot behind her, as her hands busied themselves, and her lips pushed down to muffle Root’s moans. Shaw then whispered what she was about to do to Root in graphic detail. Sameen could hear Root’s heart racing as she played out her fantasy.

Root had a short fuse when it came to Sameen turning her on and within minutes, she exploded in screams from the intense heightened sexual tension.

Oh, Shaw understood _exactly_ what Root wanted.

Several times.

Minutes passed before Root could steady her breath enough to say, “God, you are amazing.”

“Thanks, but my friends call me Shaw,” Sameen teased and Root pulled her down to hold onto her.

Sameen looked down into Root’s eyes and smiled. “I think it’s time,” she said.

“To go?” Root asked, sorry to see their morning time over.

“For you to take it back,” Shaw clarified, and began tickling Root mercilessly. Root erupted into screams of protest, unwilling to give in. But eventually, she gasped for air and gave up.

“That’ll teach you,” Shaw said victoriously.

“Oh, yes, it will,” Root gushed because she found yet another way to get Shaw to play.

* * *

Isabelle had breakfast waiting and could tell by the way Root danced with her that something very special had just happened. She looked over at Shaw who smiled and said, “What can I say?”

“Now, I got Janine’s instructions and will have lunch ready when your classes are over,” the chef smiled. None of that made sense to Shaw.

“Why would Janine ask you to bring lunch? You said plural? I thought it was one class. I’m only doing this for one class. What is wrong with that woman?” Shaw questioned as Root helped her on with her jacket and they went into the elevator.

“I’m sure we’ll find out when we get there,” Root assured her agitated girlfriend.

* * *

Shaw believed in always making an entrance, and when it was to something she was being forced to do, she made a loud entrance. She revved the engine of her car and screeched to a halt. Parents grabbed small children out of fear and older people put their hands to their ears.

“Oh, you do _not_ want to press your luck with me,” Detective Jackson said to herself as she saw her invited guest. The woman took pride in pairing volunteers to teach important life skills to the youth of the neighborhoods. The classes were always filled to capacity and well regarded. She was not about to let an angry Persian firecracker ruin any of that.

Today, the fields looked more carnival than athletic. The stands were filled and there were various stations set up around the park. Jackson had already allowed Janine to dress the kids in neon bright t-shirts that were emblazoned with _Team Shaw_ on them.

“I think Janine beat us,” Root said, seeing the brightly colored shirts in the distance.

“I think I should carry a tranquilizer gun,” Shaw suggested.

“GOOD MORNING,” the enthusiastic assistant said and handed Shaw a coffee exactly the way she liked it. Shaw would have argued that too big a fuss was being made, but the woman handed her boss a danish and that was the end of that.

Jackson approached, dressed in her athletic wear, giving her a more casual appearance. “Good morning,” she smiled to both women. “So pleased you could make it.”

“Not like I had a choice,” Shaw said, her mouth full of delicious food. Janine knew how to make an unpleasant environment at least a little more palatable. “You look…different.”

“Your class is over there, Shaw. Go over some basic self-defense with the sixth graders,” Jackson said, ignoring the remark.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said and finished her food.

“No throwing the kids,” Jackson felt it necessary to point out and wasn’t being rude.

“How about I demonstrate on you,” Shaw suggested and Root bit her lip and put her hands on Shaw’s hips to point her in the right direction. Which at this moment, was away from the detective.

Shaw was a little surprised to see John there. “You got up early? For _this_?” she asked him.  
“Fusco said it was not to be missed,” Reese said, his dark sunglasses on as he stood there firmly.

“Where is that weasel? I’m going to use him as my target,” Shaw decided and pulled her Ray Bans down her nose to look around.

“He’s over there by your sister,” Reese pointed out.

“My _sister_? What the hell is she doing here?” Shaw shouted.

“She brought your mother,” Reese explained.

“My _mother_ is here? What is this, a circus?” Shaw yelled.

“Depends on if you play nice or not, Shaw,” Reese proffered and Sameen pushed past him now.

* * *

Root followed as Sameen rushed to the stands where dozens of parents sat, along with BEAR staff and her family. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked her mother, because it was the crack of dawn in her mind.

“Sameen!” her mother said, chastising her language in front of small children. “We were invited.”

“They were invited,” she repeated as she turned to Root.

“Sweetie, people like to be around you,” Root explained. “That’s why, when you do something in public, your coworkers and family like to come. They want to support you.”

“I don’t want support, Root. I want to go find these miscreants and get it over…,” Shaw bellowed, but Root kissed her to take her mind off of that and hopefully, improve her vocabulary.

“Do you know how thrilled I would have been when I was a kid, if a really nice woman like you shared her knowledge with me? I would have thought that was the coolest thing ever,” Root said and Sameen listened.

“Yeah?” she asked, never having thought of it like that.

“Yes,” Root said and convinced Sameen there might be a positive spin on all of this.

“Okay,” Shaw said, sucking it up and taking off her jacket. “You’ll be here?”

“Right over there,” Root smiled.

“Fine,” Shaw agreed and went off to find her merry band of students.

* * *

Shaw walked over to the group and said hello. “I’m Shaw and I’m here …,” she started and was interrupted.

“Are you going to teach us how to pummel bullies?” one girl asked and Shaw took a deep breath and said no and tried to start again.

“Are you going to throw any of us on the ground?” one inquisitive kid asked.

“Only if you don’t shut up,” Shaw said and the group backed away from her.

Jackson watched and knew immediately what needed to be done. She sent her _most_ qualified teacher over to share with Shaw how to handle the group.

“Carter?” Shaw said when Joss approached. “Oh, thank God, you’re here. Good luck,” Shaw said, and tried to leave.

“Where you going, Shaw? You’re not running away from a group of sixth graders, are you?” Joss teased.

Shaw took her glasses off and looked her straight in the eye. “They won’t...shut up.”

Joss tried to suppress the laugh, but it came out anyway in a broad smile.

“Shaw, you accosted four armed men and taped them up,” Joss whispered because they all knew it was her, “…surely you can handle them.”

Shaw looked back at the group of girls who were staring at her, uncertain that Joss was right.

“Let me show you,” Joss said and gathered the girls and told them it was up to them if they wanted to stay or not, but if they decided to, they had to listen to their instructor. And then, as if Sameen hadn’t thought of it, Carter reminded her she was in charge. “You’re the boss here, Shaw. Just try not to look so… angry.”

Joss left, knowing her friend was more than capable of dealing with this. Shaw turned back to the group and decided to try a different tactic.

“I usually don’t like kids, but I’m will to make an exception in your case, okay? So, let’s get started,” Shaw smiled and the girls gathered round.

The more Sameen talked, the more relaxed she was. The more relaxed she was, the more the girls liked her. The more they liked her, the more they listened and within minutes, they were paired up and Shaw was demonstrating some basic maneuvers. “It’s not about fighting,” she told them. “It’s about how to avoid a fight.”

* * *

Root watched Sameen intently as she talked to the girls and worked with them. She wasn’t surprised to see how they fell under the same spell most people did after being with Shaw.

“She’s very good with children,” someone said to Root and when she turned she saw Azar was sitting next to her on the bottom bench.

“Sameen’s good with everyone,” Root shared.

“Yes, but it’s different with children. They require a lot of patience and I think she’s learning that. That will be important for you both,” Azar mused.

“I always feel like we’re talking about something other than just this moment,” Root smiled at the woman.

“I am always talking about what is best for both of you, present and future,” Azar smiled.

* * *

The class was over, but the girls followed Sameen when she tried to leave. Shaw would turn and try to convince them to leave, but they were a collective blob of gum stuck to her shoe.

“We want to hear more,” one of them said and they all started talking. The noise of those high pitched voices was enough to send Shaw over the edge.

Root watched in total awe and came up behind Sameen in time to remind her to use her words. She was concerned Shaw’s usual tactic of getting people’s attention… _aka her gun_ … would not endear her to Jackson or the parents. “Stay the course, Sameen,” Root whispered.

“Tell us about your job. Do you fight people? Do you use your gun?” the all asked and now surrounded Shaw.

Root suggested they sit down and allow Sameen to tell them about her job. The all sat down immediately and listened. Sameen didn’t know where to begin or what to say. So, Root talked about what a vital role Sameen had in securing her safety as her bodyguard and how important she was to the whole BEAR Security team. Shaw looked at Root as she spoke, wondering how she found it so easy to talk on the spur of the moment.

“Yeah, I like my job a lot,” Shaw finally added.

Bear ran over and pushed at Shaw, obviously her cue to now spend some time talking about him. Which she did, making him practically stand at attention.

“We won’t get his head through the door now,” Sameen said.

It was time for round two of the classes and the girls had to go. They each ran up to Shaw and hugged her, which threw the woman. She tried to respond, but was still stiff when demonstrating affection to strangers.

“We got to work on her hugs,” Genrika said to Root.

“Hugs? I can hug. Have you seen Root wink? You should work on that,” Shaw said, not wanting all the attention.

“No, I think hugging is first,” the tween decided authoritatively.

Root looked at Shaw, smiling and shrugged her shoulders as if there was nothing she could do.

“Why is she in charge?” Shaw asked and no one answered.

* * *

“Shaw?” Jackson called to her and Sameen looked at her confused. “You’re up with the kindergartners.” The woman carried a clipboard which made this look very official.

“I am not up with… how old are they? Like three? I can’t …. Root?” Shaw called, but everyone was moving their seats over the where a large group of 5 year old girls were gathered.

“Oh, this I got to see,” Fusco said, hurrying to get a spot.

Ayala, Martine and Azar were walking to the new location now. “I’m glad you didn’t invite me to your outing the other night,” Ayala teased her sister.

“Okay, fine,” Shaw said, pushing up her sleeves and pulling down her sunglasses. She walked over to the new group.

“It’s best if you get down to their level,” Root said and gently pushed on Sameen to kneel.

Sameen seemed more at ease with the kids whose eyes all seemed locked on her. She talked about the importance of being able to tell an adult how they feel or if something happens.

“Who do _you_ tell?” one girl asked, curious about her teacher.

Sameen stopped and thought about it. “I tell Root…everything,” she said and looked back at her girlfriend sitting nearby; tears welling in her eyes.

Sameen’s second group was better behaved and she tried hard to reciprocate their hugs.

“Better,” Genrika said encouragingly.

“Oh, good,” Shaw said, not liking being the student to a twelve year old.

Jackson was carefully listening to the children and their parents after each of Shaw’s classes. She knew Sameen had it in her to do a good job. Still, she was happy to hear how impressed the kids were.

“Well, it’s been nice,” Shaw said when Jackson approached. “Don’t look at that clipboard, Jackson,” Sameen said bravely. “It’s lunch time.”

“Okay, Shaw,” Jackson said agreeably. “Then, it’s the high school kids.”

Shaw looked at the smile on her new friend’s face. “Is she laughing?” Shaw asked Root, suspiciously. “She looked like she was laughing.”


	96. Root, Suffix, and Prefix

“You’re doing so well,” Isabelle lauded her favorite consumer of her food, as they gathered for her picnic lunch that day.

“I gotta hand it to you, Shaw,” Fusco admitted, “… you did good.”

“Of course she did,” Root said, gently pushing her shoulder into Shaw’s, whose mouth was too full to respond so anyone could understand her.

“Still, I was thinking,” Martine said, sitting next to her girlfriend, “…high school kids are a whole different breed. I’ll be there just in case.”

Shaw smiled her thanks, but she had no idea what Martine was talking about. Sameen continued to enjoy her wonderful lunch until Jackson walked over to the table. “I’m going to break that clipboard before I leave,” Shaw said out of the side of her mouth to Root.

“Shaw, you’re over near Field Two,” she said in a friendly manner and said hello to everyone. “Fusco,” she nodded in particular. “No firearms on the field, Shaw,” she reminded her.

“Do you _ever_ relax?” Shaw asked. “You’re off duty and you still look uptight.”

“What makes you think I’m off duty?” Jackson asked.

“Your outfit?” Shaw said, not liking the woman’s appearance in athletic wear for no other reason that it was a change.

“You don’t think I look good?” Jackson teased. “Because I think I look good.”

Joss’ head swung around because she could have sworn she heard those same remarks out of Shaw’s mouth one time. “I must be out in the sun too long,” she mused.

“These girls are older. You’re going to talk to them about sexual assault and the importance of reporting it. You can give them these brochures, too,” Jackson said, handing Sameen a bag of them. “Listen,” she said in a serious tone, “…we get some pushback sometimes on this one. Some of these girls have boyfriends that are gang members. You’re not going to get through to all of them, okay?”

Sameen could see in the woman’s expression how serious she took these classes and how much she cared about these kids. “Sure,” Shaw said and took the pamphlets. “Oh, Jackson?” she called and the woman turned around. “I’m breaking that clipboard in two before I leave.”

“Right,” Jackson said, the banter between them easing a bit.

* * *

“She thinks I’m kidding,” Shaw said to Root who knew she wasn’t.

Root took Shaw’s hand as they walked over to the group. “I like this idea of you as a teacher,” Root shared.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, because anything Root liked made it easier for Sameen.

“Yeah,” Root said, smiling. Then, she took her seat with the others and watched as Sameen approached the group.

Martine was right with her and stood towards the back of the gathering. She was oddly aware that this group was closest to the fence that separated the fields from the street and on the street was a small gathering of older boys. Some of them called out to the girls in the class.

Shaw introduced herself and explained what she was going to talk about. “It’s important that you feel safe no matter where you are,” she explained and a couple of girls murmured something. The more Shaw emphasized that they always had the right to say no, the more distracting the group on the outside of the fence became. “Don’t listen to her,” one of them shouted to his girlfriend. Shaw noticed that the more a couple of them yelled over, the more nervous the girls seemed to get.

“Is he bothering you?” Shaw asked, unsure of the connection.

“Boys like their sex,” an older girl in the back informed Shaw.

“That’s not the question,” Shaw pointed out and noticed there was a hole in the chain linked fence. “This isn’t about having a relationship with two consenting …whatever you are,” Shaw said. “This is about being harassed and unwanted advances.”

Now, the one of the largest boys noticed the girl he liked actually listening to this talk and became more agitated. He called over to her several times and was now shouting. The girl moved closer to her friend and refused to turn around.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Shaw asked.

“No,” the girl said, but he was shouting at her like they were.

“He’s pissing me off,” Shaw announced.

“He’s loco,” one of the other girls said of the alpha male.

“Just my type,” Shaw said and walked over to the fence. The catcalls and whistles started immediately when they saw her. A few of them said they’d leave their girlfriends if she came with them. “You are making it so hard to refuse,” she rolled her eyes.

Root was watching this and was already walking closer. “This ain’t good,” Fusco said, thinking he might offer muscle. Like to pull his friend off them when she beat them up. Root put her hand on Fusco’s arm to hold him back. She was always willing to watch and wait; to make sure Shaw needed them.

“Hey, you,” Shaw smiled as she called over to the most annoying of the group. “I’m running this little group here and I’d prefer you occupy a less annoying space.”

“Big talk for a little woman, “ he started. “You see? This is a free country and I can stand anywhere I want.”

“Yeah, you can, and I can reach through this fence and pull you so fast, your face will have marks on it,” Shaw promised.

The group erupted into laughter when they heard the threat. She was out powered and outnumbered.

“Tell you what, pretty lady, let’s see if that big mouth can be used for something good,” he turned and laughed to his crew.

As soon as he turned, Shaw reached through the fence because the hole was big enough for someone small, and grabbed him by his jacket. She pulled back with all her might, which in Shaw’s case was enough to pull him right up against the fence. His head turned sideways and she tugged on him so hard, his cheek pressed up firmly against the fence.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled.

“I’m memorizing your ugly face because if you ever go near any of these girls, I will find you, and break whatever it is you promised them. Do you understand me?” she growled.

Martine watched carefully, her eyes on the others who might come to their leader’s aid.

“You talk like that because there’s a fence between us,” he said, his face hurting.

“Let me help you then,” Shaw said, and pulled him down so his head fit through the hole. “I hope you’re memorizing my face,” she said to him. “Because the next time you see me, it will be very dark.” Then, because she couldn’t reach anymore of his body, she head butted him and let him fall back onto the sidewalk.

* * *

_Then_ , Root walked over.

“Hi, Sweetie. Need any help?” she asked.

“No, I’m good,” Shaw said.

“Ice?” Root asked.

“Okay, maybe,” Shaw said of the pain at the top of her forehead.

“Sure,” Root said and asked Isabelle to bring it.

If Janine could have hired cheerleaders for the day, this would have been the part where they shouted Sameen’s name. “GET “EM SHAW!” Janine shouted because her boss simply could do no wrong. “God, everything she does is cool,” she gushed to Sameen’s mother. Azar smiled uncomfortably, worried about the bump that might be forming on her daughter’s head.

Isabelle handed the ice pack to Root, who in turn gave it to Shaw. “Later maybe,” she said as she returned to the group.

The girls were amazed at how Shaw had handled the trouble maker; especially the girls who felt intimidated by the group. They started telling Shaw what it was like in school or what it was like walking home and the pressures they faced. Sameen got a firsthand look into what life was like for some of these teenagers. She passed out her number and Martine’s, who readily agreed to help out and promised to speak to Detective Jackson about getting them help. The girls were encouraged and inspired that someone as small as Shaw could handle herself so well. She explained she had a lot of training, but that they, too, could better prepare themselves.

The group ended with another round of applause and requests to stay in touch. This time, Sameen was ready for the onslaught of positive regard.

* * *

“It’s a good think I’m not the jealous type,” Root whispered as they walked back. Shaw took the ice and pressed it against her head, but dropped it as soon as she saw Jackson.

“What are you doing to help those girls? You can’t do a Saturday workshop and expect that they’re better prepared to handle the streets,” Shaw lectured. “You need to get some of the cops, preferably female ones, to walk the beat or at least be available if they need to talk to someone.”

“O..kay,” Jackson said, thinking about how much of an interest Shaw was taking. “Maybe we could coordinate something to present to the girls in school,” Jackson said carefully.

“Sure, yeah, we could do that,” Shaw said, looking at Root, who nodded her head.

“I’ll follow up with you then,” Jackson said and extended her heartfelt appreciation to them both for coming.

“Hey, Jackson, we’re not braiding each other’s hair, okay?” Shaw said, not wanting the woman to get her hopes up.

Jackson suppressed a laugh and looked right at Root. “Damn,” she said to the woman she was coming to understand.

* * *

  
Root loved how people couldn’t help but be affected by Shaw’s charisma.

Of course… not everyone fell under the spell.

“Sam?” came the call from a woman approaching them. She was a tall, blonde, shapely woman who was dressed in very expensive clothing. The first thing Shaw noticed about her was how Root stopped in her tracks and turned to look.

“Krista?” Root said, in a tone Shaw had never heard in her girlfriend. Root sounded…nervous.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said, wanting nothing more than to go home.

“How are you?” the woman practically sang to Root and kissed her on both cheeks.

“When did you get back?” Root asked haltingly and now she definitely had Shaw’s attention.

“Ages ago, but I didn’t call….,” and now the woman’s eyes were on Sameen when she said, “…you know.”

Shaw got the distinct impression she was the reason she hadn’t called.

There was a moment of silence when all the stranger did was stare at Root. Root seemed uncharacteristically quiet.

“Sameen Shaw,” Shaw said, taking the woman’s hand and shaking it hard.

“Krista Harding,” the woman said, trying to return the squeeze.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Root said and now put her hand to her forehead. “Sameen, this is…”

“Krista,” Shaw filled in. “Got it.”

“I’ll call you,” Krista said, giving the distinct impression she thought she was in charge.

Sameen disliked her already.

And she hadn’t even heard the backstory yet.

When she did, she would be certain she didn’t like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this came out of the idea of what Shaw would be like jealous. But it's hard to imagine that Root ever had anyone like Shaw in her life. But  
> suppose Krista was someone who was in Root's past? Do you think it would work? If not, I'll rewrite it.


	97. Survival of the Fittest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's recap:  
> Yes, it's a great experiment to write a jealous Shaw. But we need someone for her to be jealous of. That's the hard part because as we all know, there is simply no competition when it comes to Shaw for Root. So - it's in Root's past. And here - we have to stretch, too, because it's a different time when Root was not so perfectly all together as she is now.  
> So - this will work ... or not. You'll let me know. I want Shaw to 'feel' jealous ... not matter how long it lasts because it will teach her something.

Shaw watched the tall woman saunter away. She was out of place at an athletic field and yet she was able to maneuver the uneven ground in high heeled shoes. “BYE SHAW” a group of five year olds yelled as they passed and caught her attention. “Remember – always listen to your older siblings,” Shaw yelled over. She saw the expression on Root’s face. “What? I figure I’m saving someone a lot of aggravation later in life.”

Root smiled, but it wasn’t her usual ‘ _oh, isn’t Shaw clever_ ,’ smile. It was the kind you give someone when you’re being polite because you’re preoccupied.

“Your cheeks are red,” Shaw noted because it was the color that appeared when she complimented Root or teased her.

“Are they?” Root said and seemed uncomfortable that Sameen commented on it. “Must be the …,” but she pointed up to the sky instead of actually saying the word.

“Are you okay?” Shaw asked because it was that noticeable.

“Yes, oh, yes,” Root said and smiled. It was one of the few times Shaw could remember Root’s lips smiling while her eyes looked worried.

“Hey,” Ayala called over to them. “We’re all going to mommy’s new house uptown. You guys should come.”

“Okay first, stop saying _mommy_ and second, when did she move in; in the middle of the night?” Shaw asked.

“She’s very organized,” Ayala answered. “Mom-my, that is,” she said on purpose.

“She would have been so normal if I had been around her growing up,” Shaw said and Ayala laughed. “I guess we’ll go,” Shaw said, walking in the group’s direction. Suddenly, she realized Root had not followed.

Root-had-not-followed. (Thought that might bear repeating.)

“Hey,” Shaw said and looked like confused by the occurrence.

The truth was Root didn’t want to go with them. And worse, Root didn’t want to be with anyone. Shaw had walked back to look at her. “Sameen, would you mind?” she said and of course Sameen figured she was asking if THEY didn’t go.

“Oh, sure,” Shaw said, and yelled to Ayala that they would see them later.

“No, I meant,” Root said slowly because she was having trouble processing what was going on and the techie genius did everything by processing. “I need to work on some things, so why don’t you go and I’ll meet you there.” It was the best Root could come up with on short notice.

“Oh,” Shaw said, because it was so different from anything Root usually suggested.

“Hey, Shaw; Jackson is putting you down for next month’s classes,” Fusco called over.

“You see?” Shaw said to Root. “This is why doing good deeds sucks. Let me straighten this out and I’ll come with you.”

Root’s genuine smile made Sameen feel like whatever just happened was momentary and gone. “You go. I’ll come by in an hour or so,” Root assured her and gently pushed Shaw in the direction of her friends.

“How are you getting back?” Shaw asked and looked around. “Take the car,” she said, giving her the key. “I’ll come with you …,” she offered again.

“Go, before that woman has you running the program,” Root teased and kissed Sameen goodbye.

“Okay, I’ll see you at my mother’s in an hour or so,” Shaw said, to be sure.

“Okay,” Root smiled and waved as she walked away.

Something was off; Sameen felt it. But, as a woman who prized her own way of handling things, she thought maybe, just maybe, Root needed a little alone time. For what reason, she couldn’t imagine.

* * *

“You better hurry up, Shaw,” Reese teased and Joss elbowed him to stop antagonizing their friend.

Shaw walked right over to Jackson, grabbed the clipboard, and cracked it in two over her knee. “I wasn’t kidding.”

“You owe me a new clipboard,” Jackson said. “And now I’m writing you in for next month.”

“They said….Fusco you said, Reese said you were putting my name down,” Shaw stammered as her friends bent over laughing that she fell for it.

“Oh, Shaw, you didn’t strike me as the foolhardy type, but they got you,” Jackson said of the men’s joke.

Sameen pursed her lips and hit Lionel right in the meaty part of his arm. He yelled and grabbed it. “Did you see that, Jackson? She struck an officer.”

“I didn’t see anything,” the woman said as she smiled.

“Do you believe it? A fellow detective and she doesn’t stick up for me. There’s a thin blue line, Jackson. We’re on the same side of it,” he yelled to the woman as she walked away.

* * *

“Where’s Samantha?” Azar asked as she came up to the group.

“She’s … she’ll be there later,” Shaw said and looked back, but Root had already left. “She’s meeting me there.”

“Okay, good,” Azar said and took Sameen’s arm. “Now, let’s talk about you using your head to hit that man back there.” As a trained CIA operative, Azar wanted to point out that her daughter should have hit his nose and not his forehead. As her mother, she was going to suggest not doing that again – ever.

Azar talked to Sameen all the way out of the park, but wasn’t distracting her enough that she didn’t turn back in Root’s direction just to see if she could see the car.

“Everything okay?” Azar asked because she knew Sameen was missing Root. “She’s coming soon, yes?”

“Yeah,” Shaw smiled and went with her mother to the car.

* * *

Root drove the car back to the Penthouse and went upstairs. She felt as if she were holding heavy packages and couldn’t wait until she could put them down inside. But there were no bags, just emotions that weighed on her. She was glad Bear was with Harold because she wouldn’t want to burden him with any of this.

 _This_. “What is… _this_ ,” she asked herself out loud.

She hadn’t thought about Krista in a long time. She had Iris to thank for that. All those weeks of going to the therapist helped to finally accept what happened. Root came to understand that her relationship with Krista had less to do with love and more to do with manipulation. Root was young, inexperienced. Krista was the most self-assured woman she had met. She was bright and understood programming almost as much as Root did. She used her software design to exploit weaknesses in the Wall Street technology systems and made a ton of money. She didn’t just want to be rich; she wanted power. And she was good at selling Root a story about women’s rights to be CEO’s and in charge. Root found her fascinating and exciting. The same way people feel about recreational drugs when they first come across them. Root was blind to her dependency on Krista. For the first time in Root’s life, someone…other than Harold… was praising her every move. But there was a price for that unbridled flattery and it was to do things Krista’s way. She managed to make Root feel loved and by the time Root saw the price tag, she was already hooked on the sentiment she had missed all her life. It took her awhile to see that she wasn’t loved; she was used. And even longer to admit, she had withdrawals when Krista cut her off. Krista had been Root’s dealer and was willing to give her a hit of love whenever she was willing to pay for it.  
Root learned a very important lesson.

That relationship may not have taught her what love was; but she learned what it wasn’t. Root could figure out the most complex algorithms of the most complex programming. How was it, she wondered, that she failed so miserably at figuring out people?  
She swore she’d be sure about the next person she ever gave her heart to. She admitted to Iris that her instinct about Krista had been right, but she refused to listen. Next time, she swore, she would. And Root needed to know that next time, she would pick someone who loved her and not only themselves

* * *

Root sat down on the couch and pulled her long legs up and wrapped her arms around them. She’d much rather think about Sameen and how she knew instantly this was the woman she wanted to be with. There was honesty about Shaw; you got what you saw. It wasn’t just in what she thought; it was in everything she did. Shaw demanded, complained or reasoned. She never manipulated.

So why was it that Root reacted to seeing Krista? It wasn’t just surprise to see her there; it was a flood of feelings. But if she had closed the chapter on her, how could there still be feelings? The hardest part of what Root learned, tapped into her psyche below any level she even knew she had.

When Root became too inquisitive and didn’t play along, Krista decided it was time to move on. She came right out and told Root, she was in love with someone else and she was moving out that night. Root swore the air had been sucked out of the room. She gasped, as if she couldn’t breathe. How would she exist if Krista wasn’t there to love and encourage her? She momentarily lost it because the woman was taking what she had desperately wanted all her life. She begged Krista not to go; not just because she loved her, but because she feared the void that would take her place.

Krista kissed her sweetly and told her that it had been wonderful, but their time was done.

Root curled up in a ball when the woman left; the weight of that emptiness pulling her down into an abyss of misery. Harold became worried about Root’s despondency. He tried to cajole Root with interesting projects. All, to no avail. Harold could see that he was of no help to his adopted niece. He needed professional assistance. He hired the premier psychologist and offered her an employment contract on a silver platter. He was certain he made the right choice when Iris Campbell accepted with no additional stipulations over the norm. Still, it would be weeks before Root would come in to talk to her.

Unlike many of Dr. Campbell’s patients who were resistant to change; Root was a virtual sponge. Once she realized her psyche was like a program with hidden folders, some of which she may never actually access, she became fascinated with the process. Week after week, she brought in, not just her thoughts, but her feelings. She slowly came to the realization that she had projected a great many things onto Krista. Things that had been missing all her life. At first, the relationship worked because Root was filling the narcissistic needs of Krista. Krista was the center of Root’s attention and she thrived on it. But lack of empathy eventually reared its head and it was time for Krista to move on, to find another person willing to pay for the drug.  
Recovering from a habit can be hard, no matter what the cause. And it took Root sometime to come to grips with what had happened to her. She held no ill feelings towards Krista; she focused instead on what her part had been. She emerged a woman willing to look inside herself, without the usual judgement people have. She was stronger and more accepting of herself.

Samantha Groves emerged as… Root.

* * *

So, what happened to her today? Root thought back to what she first felt when she saw Krista coming out of the blue. She was surprised, but there was more. There was a tug at her heart – as if seeing the woman reached all the way to a tender part of her. And it was unexpected. That’s why Root seemed unusually quiet and anxious.

The woman who had hurt her beyond measure was in the same space with the woman who would protect her at all costs.

“They must never meet,” Root decided. It had been a bump in the road and now she was past it. She would join Sameen and when they got home later, she would tell her all about Krista. Well, as much as she could without Sameen shooting the woman.

There! It was settled, and Root felt all the better for it. She would have to commend Iris on her work and how she taught Root to put words to her feelings. It really did help to sort them out.

Root ran upstairs and showered, missing the woman she loved more than ever. What a difference Sameen made in her life. She showered, dressed and got ready to go.

* * *

Root's phone rang and she was certain it was Sameen.

“Hi, sweetie. Miss me?” Root cooed into the phone.

“Well, I didn’t realize how much until I saw you,” Krista responded.

“Oh, I was … I thought…,” Root said and looked at her phone.

“Oh, Sam, you didn’t think I couldn’t find your cell number, did you?” the fellow tech genius laughed in the phone.

“No, of course,” Root said, knowing if anyone could come close to her skills, it was Krista.

“Sam, I know this is out of the blue, and it might seem terribly unfair,” the woman said nicely, “…but would you think of allowing Bear to visit me? It’s just I’m back in New York with no one at the present time, and his company would be a real mood lifter. Like the old days, Sam.”

“Bear?” Root said into the phone as if the woman had just asked her to donate a kidney. Or a heart chamber.

“Well, _technically_ he is mine,” the woman reminded her. “I mean, I bought him for us, but I have the papers.”

“Bear…would never go with you,” Root said.

“Oh, I don’t know. He seemed pretty friendly to me at the park. I mean, it took a couple of minutes, but he warmed up rather quickly. Why don’t you bring him over tomorrow? If he seems comfortable, then maybe you could think about leaving him for a couple of hours,” she suggested and sounded so reasonable, Root actually thought it over.

“I don’t know, Krista. He’s pretty fussy,” Root explained, wishing she had looked at the number before picking up.

“Bring Simone,” Krista suggested.

“Sameen,” Root corrected.

“Sa-meen. What is that?” Krista asked.

 _Persian for - the woman who will kill you if Bear stays,_ Root thought. “I have to go,” Root said, because she had to wash this entire conversation’s effects from her face before seeing Shaw.

“Call me tomorrow and tell me what you think,” Krista said and hung up.

* * *

“I think this is all a mistake,” Root said as she went to join Shaw and their friends.

She thought back to the day that Krista arrived home with a surprise for her. They were both working very hard at their jobs and Krista suggested a nice romantic dinner at home. She had everything prepared when Root arrived and after a nice meal, she told her she had a surprise for her. She went into the other room and came out with a box and presented it to Root. The holes were a dead giveaway, but when Root lifted the top off, there was the most adorable puppy she had ever seen.

“Is he okay?” Root asked as she lifted him out of the box. He seemed very sleepy for a young pup.

“Oh, yes, the breeder said he was tired from the trip,” Krista lied. She had sedated him so he wouldn’t spoil her plans.

“He’s so cute,” Root gushed. “Is he mine?”

“Well, _ours_ really,” Krista said. “I bought him for _us_.” Krista never did anything unless she benefited from it, too, but Root didn’t know that yet.

The dog took to Root immediately and went with her everywhere. He may have been theirs on paper, but his heart belonged to Root.

* * *

When Krista left Root, she tossed Bear aside as well.

Neither fit in her plan.

Until now.


	98. Take Me Through That, One More Time, Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your responses. It truly helps to see how the story is developing through your eyes. 
> 
> Thank you to Tigre_16 for remembering that I said in Matchmaker that Bear was a rescue dog that Root found. I changed that (Chapter 22) so that I hope it's more cohesive to show he was, in fact, a gift.

Just those few minutes alone to walk down memory lane were enough to clear Root’s head. She understood now that seeing Krista brought up old feelings, but they bore nowhere near the impact that they once did. Having figured that out gave Root time to think about what Krista was up to asking for Bear. Perhaps seeing his reaction would save her the aggravation of Krista demanding that they come. If he was unhappy, he’d bark and let Root know.  
Although, it wasn’t his bark she was worried about; it was Sameen’s bite. Krista was exactly the kind of person Shaw would have trouble tolerating.

Root had to see Shaw. They had a lot to talk about.

* * *

If teasing truly is a sign of affection, then the entire group was being very affectionate with Shaw. It was easy for Azar to understand why her daughter was the center of attention. First, they truly all loved her and second, she was an easy mark to aggravate. In spite of all the fond banter, Azar noticed Sameen looking at her watch several times. She asked Sameen to help her in the kitchen; even though the entire affair was catered.

“She will be here soon, yes?” Azar asked her fidgety daughter.

“Root? Yeah, she should be here …,” Sameen said and looked at her watch – again.

Azar handed Sameen a bag of coffee to put in the percolator. Shaw opened the bag and looked in. “Where’s the prize?” she unconsciously decided to ask and it surprised both women. It was the exact phrase that a very young Sameen would ask when handed a box of Cracker Jacks. She didn’t want to eat the contents to get to the prize, she wanted the prize. “I mean…,” Sameen said, coughed and then scooped the contents into the coffee maker.

“It’s wonderful to see you so happy,” Azar smiled. As much as Sameen wanted to dismiss this tender moment, a part of her longed for it, too.

“Me?” Sameen asked because happy was not a word she usually associated with herself. “I am,” she replied quickly. Then, realizing she was talking feelings with her mother, she quickly added, “I mean…I have a great job, friends, annoying as hell friends, but they count. I even have a dog.”

“And a woman who loves you,” Azar said because she knew that was utmost in her daughter’s mind.

“Yeah, I do. I’m very lucky,” Shaw smiled.

“I’m happy for you, Sameen,” her mother shared, gently touching her hand. It was a warm touch, one that Sameen spent years missing and now that it was back, she wanted it and feared it at the same time.

She slowly pulled her hand back to look at her watch. “I don’t know what’s taking Root so long.” Focusing on Root seemed so simple compared to these other confusing feelings.

The group’s greeting in the other room announced that Root was there. Azar could see the change in her daughter’s face as soon as Root arrived. “I’m going to go…,” Shaw said trying to act nonchalant and pointing to the living room. She took a few steps and turned back to grab a bowl of chips. “I’ll just take this… too,” she said, as if she needed an excuse to hurry back inside.

“Good,” Azar said, smiling.

* * *

Sameen was acutely aware of how seeing Root standing there made her feel something warm inside. It wasn’t like they never spent time apart, but it was rare for Root to suggest it. Sameen didn’t know it, but her face lit up just as much as Root’s did when they saw each other.

“You see that?” Joss said to Martine. “Relationship goal.”

“Reese’s face lights up when he sees you,” Martine assured the detective. “You know, for a guy who rarely uses his facial muscles, I mean.”

“Hi,” Root said when she got in Sameen’s space and kissed her. The bowl was the only thing that separated them because Sameen forgot to put it down. Root looked down at it and decided nothing should come between them.

“Hi,” Sameen said, unable to form another word because she was so busy looking at how Root’s eyes were smiling.

Silence hung between the lovers and also in the room, as friends waited to see who would talk next.

“I missed you,” Shaw blurted out and Fusco slapped his knee because he was the only one who bet Shaw would be first.

“Do I know my friend, or what?” he asked and Shaw didn’t even shoot him a look.

“Are you hungry? My mother has a ton of food,” Shaw said, trying to form cohesive sentences.

“Sure,” Root said and the two joined the awaiting friends.

The banter commenced again and it was mostly about what a great job Shaw had done and Root professing that she wasn’t at all surprised. The doorbell rang and Harold, Grace and Gen arrived with Bear.

In the midst of all the noise from the friends, Bear ran to Root and stopped short. He bent his entire body down in front of her and practically whimpered. “It’s okay,” Root assured him and bent down so he could lick her face. “I would never send you alone.”

He growled his discontent and asked the most important question. “Yes, I know you want Shaw with you,” she whispered. “Let’s talk to her later.”

“What’s got into him?” Shaw asked and Bear jumped up on her. “Okay, okay,” Shaw said even though she had no idea what she was agreeing to.

“We’ll talk later,” Root said, grabbing Sameen’s arm.

“Did you see Jackson’s face when Shaw broke her clipboard?” Fusco laughed and even John’s lips moved to form a smile. “You know she’s going to hold you to replacing that, right, Shaw?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said nowhere near as bothered now that Root was there.

Root fixed herself some food, as Shaw sat next to her, with her third helping of the various choices.

“Sweetie, you know that’s….,” Root was explaining of the food Shaw was shoveling into her mouth.

“Dis is really gud,” Shaw said, a mouth full of the delicious meat that topped wheat spaghetti.

Ayala had been waiting for this moment – well, it felt like all her life, but it really was since she met her sister. She smiled wickedly, the way a younger sibling does when they’re about to deliver bad news to their older sibling. She sat right next to Sameen as she munched on the food. “You know that’s… tofu, right?”

It was a perfectly delivered punch line to a joke no one intended to play on Shaw. She had simply grabbed the food because it looked inviting.

Sameen stopped chewing. In fact, she stopped moving as she tried to ask Root if it was true with a full mouth. “I’m afraid so, Sweetie,” Root confirmed. She had tried to warn her.

Ayala broke out into laughter, the only one who found the faux pas so funny.

“I’m going to kill her,” tried to say, but her mouth was full. She needed to empty it in order to warn her sister about her impending death. So, she spit it back on the plate and handed it to Root, who only momentarily looked at a horrified Fusco. At least Sameen wiped her mouth as she shouted how she was going to pay back her sister. Ayala knew what was coming and was up and out of her seat and running through the room and up the stairs. “I’m going to kill her. I’m not kidding, mom. She’s annoying as hell. Send her back! I want to pick another sibling,” Sameen shouted as she ran after her sister.

Azar stared at the commotion caused by two adults acting like children. Her hear nearly burst out of her chest with joy.

“If I find you, I’m going to feed you bacon,” Shaw threatened, but Ayala knew the ins and outs of the house and Shaw couldn’t find her. “This isn’t over,” Shaw shouted and decided she wanted to get back to Root more than pay back her sister.

That’s how much she missed her.

* * *

Sitting with Root and dessert were enough to take Sameen’s mind off of her payback and finally it was time for the company to leave. Root watched as Sameen nonchalantly helped her mother put things back in place and then, kissed her goodbye. She pointed to her eyes and back at her younger sister, warning her she wouldn’t forget.

Then, Root and Sameen took Bear and drove home. Bear whined the whole time that Root should tell Sameen and she explained if he quieted down, she could.

“So, Sweetie, remember that woman at the park this morning?” Root mentioned as they drove to the Penthouse.

“Your former lover?” Shaw said and surprised Root…and Bear.

“How did you…?” Root asked, both impressed and concerned.

“I know a lot about a person’s body language, Root. It’s what made me such a good operative. You were behaving so un-Root like, that I figured you and she had been intimate,” Shaw reasoned.

“Well,” Root said, mentally crossing out the first two paragraphs of her speech because Sameen was ahead of her. “Yeah, well, she called me before.”

“What does she want?” Shaw asked calmly.

“Well, she actually wants to see Bear,” Root said, impressed with how calm Shaw sounded.

“You?” Shaw asked into the rearview mirror and the dog looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“Krista gave him to me,” Root said and turned to pet the dog that pushed his nose up between the seats.

“You were a _gift_?” Shaw said amazed.

“Krista wants to see him. She asked if we would bring him over,” Root said and Sameen was laughing at the thought that anyone would want to see this dog.

“Does she know how annoying he is?” Shaw asked, missing the point.

Bear growled that she should take this more seriously. “She doesn’t know Krista,” Root explained.

The car pulled up outside of the apartment building and Root realized that Sameen hadn’t really asked any questions. “Are you curious about her?”

“Uhm, I’m curious to know what you saw in her,” Shaw answered as they went upstairs.

“I was infatuated with how bright she was, how impulsive she was,” Root said and Shaw found it surprising that her impulsive girlfriend would find another impulsive person fascinating. “I thought I knew what love was,” Root added.

 _That_ … Shaw didn’t like.

“Yeah?” she asked as they went into the apartment and Bear walked right alongside Root. “We all have pasts,” Shaw said, summing it up.

She sounded so calm that for a minute, Root figured Sameen understood that Krista was just someone she used to know. But Sameen was just starting to get in touch with her feelings about all of this. Root’s words were fanning a very small spark inside.

“Okay, then,” Root said, thinking that went better than she thought.

“So, how come you got all flushed and stammered when you saw her?” Shaw finally asked as feelings slowly bubbled up inside.

“I had a hard time getting over Krista, Sameen. I think seeing her, surprised me and maybe touched on some of that old stuff,” Root said honestly.

_You know when you’re thinking one thing and your lover is thinking something else, but you don’t know that, so you’re hesitating, but then your brain just blurts out what you think they are going to say?_

_That_ happened.

“She was before your time, Sameen. No reason to be jealous*,” Root assured the woman who was only starting to feel the flicker of that emotion deep down inside.

“What? You think … you think… I would be jealous of…of…of that amazon?” Shaw said, because God forbid she actually feel envy.

That would denote _want_ , and _need_ , and all the things humans feel.

“Well,…..,” Root stammered because she was putting herself in Sameen’s shoes and thought she would feel that way. Hell, she felt jealous of Parks Deli sandwiches some days when Shaw’s mouth was all over one. Then, Root thought about it. They were way off track now. “Well, maybe I would like you to be jealous.”

“You… _want_ …me to be jealous?” Sameen asked and her heart rummaged around and found her envy button all set to launch. “I can do jealous,” she decided.

“I don’t know …,” Root said, finally confused by the looping back and forth.

“She wants to see Bear? We’ll all go. I’ll show you jealous, but it won’t be pretty,” Shaw said.

“Really?” Root said, excited at the prospect of her strong girlfriend going off. “You know there’s nothing really to be jealous of, right?”

“Don’t kill the mood, Root,” Shaw said, because so many of her emotions were fleeting.

Root smiled and pulled Shaw into a warm kiss. “You would do jealous for me? You are the best girlfriend a woman could ever have.”

“I know,” Shaw smiled.

Bear shook his head and left the room. These two were too crazy for him sometimes.

* * *

Across town, in a recently rented apartment, Krista Harding sat with her long legs crossed on the couch and sipped on a glass of wine. In her other hand dangled the object that she hoped would bring her and Root closer.

At least electronically, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I wanted to work in Amy's line to Sarah about Hannah Frey.


	99. Up a Blind Alley

Root arranged with Krista to visit her the next day in the afternoon. Bear couldn’t have been happier that Shaw was coming and in fact, would have refused to go if she wasn’t. Root explained to Sameen how it had been her work with Iris that helped her deal with her insecurities that led to the dependency she once felt with Krista. Shaw sat there, expressionless, but taking in every word. “I really have no hard feelings with her,” Root admitted, but that only proved again to Shaw that Root was the kindest person she ever knew.

What Root could forgive, Shaw would settle.

* * *

Krista could not have been more gracious when they got there. She still kissed Root on both cheeks, blaming her time abroad for the habit, but she extended a warm hand shake to Shaw. “You’re a very lucky girl,” she said to Sameen before inviting them in.

“So are you,” Shaw quipped, smiling, but meant because she hadn’t hit her yet. Krista looked back confused.

“Oh, look at him! He is so handsome,” she said of Bear and although his instincts said to be cautious, he liked the sound of her voice. “Thank you for bringing him,” she said to Root as she stretched her hand, palm up, to Bear so he could get used to her. He decided to lick it because two legged animals took this as a positive sign. But when Krista walked Root into the dining room, Bear stuck his tongue from the perfumed scent.

“Really, you are _so_ easy,” Shaw said to him as she followed.

So far, the amazon blonde presented no threat to Shaw even though she was pretty sure this love-fest would end soon. Then, Sameen saw the display of food that the hostess had. “I found this wonderful little place in Chinatown called …”

“Parks Deli,” Sameen said because she’d recognize the food anywhere.

“Wow, imagine that,” Root said, not buying the randomness.  
Root had not planned on having anything to eat. She wanted to demonstrate that Bear would not be comfortable staying and get out. Oh, and she wanted to give Sameen enough time to be jealous. So far, no one was doing what they were supposed to.

Then, it happened.

Krista, perhaps thinking she had distracted the bodyguard with her favorite food, ran her fingers down Root’s arm as she recalled how they used to go to a little sushi place and couldn’t remember the name of it.

Sameen lost her appetite, even before Bear could mention how easy _she_ was.

“Touch her again, and I’ll break those long fingers,” Shaw smiled, leaning over just a little.

“Ooh, protective,” Krista cooed. “Well, that’s a change,” she said to Root because she never did that. “Did Sam ever tell you how we met? We were at the art museum, right? You were sitting on the floor with your laptop. She stole my heart.”

“She tazed, drugged, and zip tied me,” Shaw countered.

“Sam! I see you have an aggressive streak I never knew,” Krista said.

“There’s a lot about her you don’t know,” Shaw clarified.

Krista smiled and sat back, looking at Sameen. “You are quite the bodyguard, aren’t you?”

“And so much more,” Root said, taking Sameen’s tightened hand in hers.

“Well, I for one am glad for you, Sam,” Krista said and as much as Root hated to be called that, she didn’t want her calling her Root.

Shaw noticed that for a woman who was fighting for puppy custody of the dog, she barely paid him any attention. “So, you were thinking of taking him back?” Shaw asked.

“Bear? No, look at that face. I can see who he belongs to. Although,” she said, getting up and retrieving a black, silver studded collar, “….I was hoping he would accept this gift.” She showed it to him and bent down to put it on him. “More as an ornament than a collar, of course.” Bear looked over at Root as she put it on him. “So handsome,” she repeated.

Bear immediately came back to sit by Shaw.

“I wish you would stay for lunch,” Krista asked again, but Root said they had things to do. “It was good to see you, Sam,” she said softly and Sameen stared hard at her. “Oh, the jealous type,” she smiled.

“More your _snap-in-two_ type,” Sameen illuminated.

“Yes,” Krista said, looking Sameen up and down. “I can certainly believe that.”

Shaw turned to Root. “Are you done here?” and Root knew she meant – forever.

“Yes, I think Bear made his point,” Root smiled.

“Okay, listen up, six-feet,” Shaw said to the blonde. “The only reason I’m not taking care of you, and by _taking care of you_ , I mean hurting you, is because Root isn’t holding anything against you for the crappy cohabitant you once were. I, on the other hand, don’t possess that kind of grace. So, if you so much as look at her, let alone contact her, send Bear a postcard from the islands, I will personally come back here and instead of talking, I’ll come with visual aids,” Shaw glared.

Krista knew Sameen was tough, but she was getting a firsthand look at just how threatening she could be. There was a coldness in Shaw’s eyes that was terribly convincing.

“I guess… I’ll wait to hear from you, Sam, if I do,” Krista said and didn’t offer to walk them to the door. “Goodbye, Bear,” she added, but he never looked back.

* * *

Outside the apartment, the threesome walked to the elevator. “Man, she was a piece of work,” Shaw said, annoyed she couldn’t hit the woman. “We are done…...” she was just about to assure Root when she found herself pushed up against the elevator wall, her lips pressed hard against Root’s. “Oh,” Shaw said, feeling she had let Root down for not acting more jealous.

“Thank you,” Root said softly, still leaning on Shaw.

“For what? I sucked at being the jealous girlfriend,” Sameen said.

“No, you didn’t. You were perfect. Because you are perfect,” Root said, thinking how fortunate she was to have this woman in her life.

“I could go back and hit her,” Shaw offered, not sure she had done a perfect job.

“You could,” Root said, “….but I don’t want to spend another minute away from you.”

“Okay,” Shaw said because she was getting lost in Root’s eyes.

* * *

Before going home, Root walked down Madison Avenue until she came to an alleyway. “Where are we…?” Shaw asked, but Root just smiled and didn’t say anything. Shaw followed her down the alley, into a nondescript doorway, which led to a long hallway. “What is this?” Shaw asked, but Root just pulled her down the darkened hallway to the basement stairs. “If someone jumps out and yells surprise,” Shaw said, because Root wouldn’t answer. Downstairs, behind the staircase was another door which took them to another hallway and finally to a door. Once through it, there was a staircase going up that took them into a building that was actually two blocks away. They emerged into what looked like an abandoned library. It was the building where the machine was now.

“Oh, so that’s where we are,” Shaw said and Bear shook his head fiercely. The dog reacted to so many things, that the couple didn’t pay attention to him at first.

“I just want to check her progress,” Root said and Sameen watched as she walked over to a large display of CPUs. “Almost done,” Root reported.

“So, this is where she’ll be?” Shaw asked.

“For the time being,” Root said and told Shaw that every conceivable precaution had been taken to move her there.

“Looks like she’ll be bigger,” Shaw noticed of the additional hardware. “Does that mean she’ll be more powerful?”

It was a great question.

“She could be,” Root said slowly.

“And that depends on what?” Shaw asked.

“What we use her for,” Root replied.

“Oh, boy,” Shaw said, not sure she liked the sound of that.

* * *

When Root was sure everything was secure, the couple went out another door and eventually, exited a couple of blocks away.

They walked, hand in hand, Bear walking right alongside Root. They took their time going home and decided to bring in dinner. Root agreed to let Shaw pick the movie, which of course was a military action film. Root lay with her head in Shaw’s lap, without a care in the world. Her past was done with, and her present and future was sitting right with her.

Her phone beeped and she looked at it as Shaw yelled at the military inaccuracies in the film. “Marines would never do that! Who wrote this crap?” She noticed Root looking at her phone. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yes,” Root replied, putting her phone down. “The machine picked up some activity of someone searching for high level activity outputs,” she explained.

Bear shook his head again and this time, Root remembered the collar. She sprung up from Shaw’s lap and put her finger to her lips. She bent down and petted Bear, slowly removing his collar. Shaw knew immediately what she was doing. Root took the leather studded object to the table to examine it. She tugged on the studs until one of them loosened, and a tiny chip fell out.

“It’s okay,” Root said, picking it up and seeing that it had been fried by the security system she put in place.

“Was she following you?” Shaw asked, thinking the woman was obsessed with Root.

“I think… she’s looking for the machine,” Root said; the pieces starting to fall into place.

* * *

_Earlier that day:_

Krista sat in her living room, watching the screen carefully. “So, you found the tracking device,” she said when she saw the blinking light stop. “I wonder what it is you’re trying to protect, Sam?”


	100. Volte-Face

“She’s looking for the…?” Shaw asked, unsure of how she mistook a diabolical bitch for an obsessed ex-girlfriend. “I must be off my game,” she lamented sorrowfully.

“No, Sameen, you wouldn’t know. Krista is good at hiding things. I agreed to bring Bear - to see what she might be up to, but I never expected her to be looking for that. I’m still not sure, but she wanted to follow us for some reason,” Root explained, making Shaw feel better.

“How far did she get?” Shaw asked, worried they led her right to the location.

Root went over to a display panel on the wall and pressed some buttons and waited. “I wanted to make sure we weren’t bugged,” Root said and assured Sameen they weren’t after checking the detection alarm.

“Can I just go shoot her now?” Shaw asked, having pent up enough feelings to justify the action.

“No, Sweetie, not yet,” Root said with the affection of someone who trusts their girlfriend to be patient. “She’s got to tell us something first.”

“Okay, but ‘ _not yet_ ’ and ‘ _first_ ’- makes it sound like I can later,” Shaw pointed out.

“It’s certainly on the table,” Root assured her. Now, this was a girlfriend who would take care of anyone messing with Root.

“What do we do?” Shaw asked, because she believed Root would know the answer.

“Let’s see what she’s been up to,” Root said and they walked to her laptop and sat down.

“I should have known there was something in the collar,” Shaw admonished herself.

“Again, you don’t know Krista,” Root said, tapping keys to check on the machine’s progress.

“How do you know what you’re doing isn’t being picked up wirelessly?” Shaw asked.

“This entire apartment is protected,” Root assured her. “Okay, here’s where she lost the tracker,” she said, pointing to a spot on the screen. “That’s odd. She lost track of us long before the alleyway.” Root’s own recognition system all around that area would have interrupted the signal if it had gotten that far.

“Could something have caused that _unintentionally_?” Shaw asked.

“It appeared to have been caused by a surge,” Root explained. “We just need to know if she’s picking up on the chatter about the machine or if she’s hunting for it herself,” Root said, looking closer at her screen.

“Why would she even think to consider you?” Shaw asked and Root gave her a knowing look. The kind that says – _I’m going to give you a minute to think about that question because obviously I’m the brightest techie she knows_. Those soft brown eyes conveyed all of that and Shaw got it. “Oh, of course,” she said feeling like was slipping. “What do you all have; a brainy newsletter or blog or something? Nerds-R-Us?” Sameen joked, embarrassed.

“Actually, there is something like that,” Root said and Shaw was happy she guessed that correctly. “Some people like to keep track of that stuff, and because of what we do at BEAR, I’m on the list,” she explained.

“Do you think…?” Shaw asked, looking worried.

As if anticipating her every thought; Root answered, “I don’t think so. There’s nothing to indicate she’s been following your mother. And I noticed she didn’t seem to pay her any attention at the park,” she said of Azar. “I think we’ve managed to break the tie between your mother and her.”

Shaw was glad to hear that, but Root could see the lingering concern. “Just the same,” Root said, pressing keys quickly, “…let’s amp up your mother’s security system and let Ayala know. I don’t want to stress your mother about this.”

“Yes, good,” Shaw agreed quickly and feeling some relief because Root understood her concern. “Is Ayala there? She better be there. I swear, if she’s not there…,” Shaw ranted when she considered her sister might not be home.

“She’s there,” Root assured her and showed her the message on her computer.

“Oh, good,” Shaw said, nodding her head.

“But why did the tracker stop there?” Root wondered out loud.

“The machine?” Shaw guessed, feeling like she was losing at solving this mystery.

“She was rebuilding,” Root said, thinking.

The back and forth was annoying Shaw, who liked quick answers to problems, no matter how complicated. “So, now what?”

“Now…,” Root said, getting up and opening up a compartment in her wall unit and retrieving a pair of goggles and a controller … and knowing exactly how excited Sameen would be when she said; “…we launch the drone.”

“YOU HAVE A DRONE?” Shaw said, getting up off the couch and grabbing the remote. “Oh-my-God. Where is this? What’s the range?”

“Better than anything government issued,” Root said, proud of her own invention.

“I love these babies,” Shaw said. “I’m very good at flying them,” she said because back in her military days, she was a highly trained drone pilot.

“I bet you are,” Root said, smiling at how excited Sameen was. She watched those steel like arms handle the controller, going over the directional units. “What do you say we pay Krista a visit?” Root asked, uploading the visual screen on her computer and giving Shaw the instructions for opening the hatch on the roof.

“Your drone is on the roof?” Shaw said, amazed.

“Drones,” Root smiled. “A girl can never be too careful.”

If Shaw had ever listed everything she ever wanted in a girlfriend, a personal chef, a fast car, a dog, and a fleet of drones, would have made the list. “Let’s do this,” she said and she maneuvered the control and Root watched on the computer, making sure Shaw knew what was up ahead in her flight.

* * *

Within minutes, the drone hovered outside the window of Krista’s apartment. As Shaw looked through the headset goggles and Root stared at her screen, the image came into view. “What the hell?” Shaw uttered.

Krista was tied to a chair as a man stood leaning over her, slapping her face hard. Apparently, she wasn’t being very convincing in answering his questions.

“Can you land that on the ….,” Root was asking, when Shaw maneuvered the drone to land on the patio. She pressed some more buttons and raised the sound level on the drone.

“We paid you a great deal of money, Ms. Harding, to get us information. You said you could deliver,” the man said roughly.

“My first attempt hit a snag,” Krista said and he grabbed her.

“You said you had a source for getting us that information. I didn’t hire someone to tell me about their snags,” he barked.

“Give me forty-eight hours,” Krista said.

Shaw shook her head. “You never say forty-eight. Now he’s going to say….,”

“You have twenty-fours,” the man said at the same time as Shaw predicted his words.

He pushed Krista back in the seat and left her there. Root was busy taking pictures of him remotely when Shaw shared her inner most thoughts. When Root was done, Shaw flew the drone back to its rooftop nest.

“We have to go there,” Root said, looking at Shaw.

Sameen already knew that, but she wasn’t happy. “I wanted to slap her and someone beat me to it. I wanted her to leave. Now, we have to rescue her?” she asked incredulously. “Some days, the world just screws you over,” she complained as she got up and went with Root.


	101. WYSIWYG*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * What you see, is what you get (WYSIWYG)

Knowing her girlfriend had a cache of drones took the edge off of having to visit the ex-girlfriend for Shaw. It was all she could think about as they drove to Krista’s apartment.

“Okay,” Shaw said, holding onto Root’s hand in the elevator, “I’m just going to ask you,” she said haltingly. “Do you... have a missile launcher on that roof?”

“No,” Root said sadly, tilting her head sideways. “But I wish I did.” Given the hopeful look in Sameen’s eyes, she thought she might just have to get one.

“Not necessary. Not like we’ll ever need to launch one,” Sameen coughed. “So, what’s the plan here?”

“We’ll talk to Krista and see what’s going on,” Root said as they arrived on her floor. “At the very least, we need to know who those men were.”

“Let me just make sure it’s safe,” Shaw said, getting in front of Root as they exited. There was no one in the hallway and no sign of the men that had been there before.

The couple walked down the hall and found Krista’s door unlocked. Shaw again, insisted on walking in first, gun drawn. She turned to see Root holding – two. A small smile crept on her face because this was the woman who made two guns look hot. They walked in slowly and found no one was there, except the captive, Krista.

* * *

“SAM?” Krista yelled, having stopped struggling to get out of her restraints.

Root went to untie her, but Sameen stopped her. “She’ll be more cooperative like this,” Shaw said, looking around. Something was making the hairs of her neck stand up.

“Krista, what happened?” Root asked, sitting in front of her ex.

“These men broke in,” Krista tried, but could see in Root’s brown eyes, that she knew the truth. Before Root could respond, Shaw appeared and pulled Krista to face her.

“I have been wanting to whack the hell out of you since the minute we met. So far, I’ve been talked out of it, but I’m getting real close to overriding that request,” Shaw threatened.

“There’s talk…,” Krista said, because Shaw wasn’t what she expected. She was far more menacing. “…of a powerful machine. Came here, they think, from Russia or Europe. No one knows. It’s a program that could be used to control a lot of things,” Krista explained, now that Shaw let go of her jaw.

“What does this have to do with me?” Root asked on cue.

“I thought if anyone had any idea of that kind of program, you might have gotten wind of it. On a dark channel or something. These men, who I assume you saw from a drone or something,” she said, looking around to see if Root had planted a camera, ”…. came here for the information.”

Shaw was busy looking around to see if something was out of place.

“And when you didn’t have any?” Root asked, watching the swelling appear over Krista’s eyebrow.

“I tried to follow you. I put a chip in Bear’s collar and thought maybe I could find out if you knew anything about it. It’s big, Sam. People are willing to pay a lot of money.”

“People who are willing to pay a lot of money, usually are willing to kill when they don’t get what they want,” Shaw announced, still searching for clues.

“They’re dangerous,” Krista said to Root.

“Who are they?” Root asked patiently.

“I’m not sure,” Krista said, looking away.

“Krista,” Root said in a sweet voice. “We can do this the _easy_ way, or the _hard_ way.” Shaw’s head snapped back to look her how angelic Root looked when she issued that threat. “The hard way... involves a heated iron.”

“DAMN!” Shaw swore she said in her head, but Root turned to look at her. “Sorry,” Shaw coughed, unable to hold back how amazing her lover sounded when she issued that threat. She knew trained military people who couldn’t be as convincing.

“So, what’s it gonna be, Krista?” Root said, opening Krista’s jacket to expose her skin.

“Sam! What has happened to you?” Krista asked, surprised at this.

“I stopped taking crap,” Root smiled, looking around for where such an instrument might be. “The closet?”

The thing that worried Krista the most was that Sameen looked worried.

“Dominic Carsini,” she blurted out. “But he’s just the go between. Someone else is paying him and he’s paying tech people who might have the programs to find the machine’s activity.”

“Now, that wasn’t hard,” Root said, taking her seat again. “So, this program. How did it get here?”

“No one knows. It’s like the Holy Grail of programs. They saw it years ago, lost sight of it and now, whenever there’s a surge of activity, people jump on the bandwagon. It’s worth a great deal of money,” Krista said, her shoulders collapsing.

“How did Dominic expect you to continue your search if he tied you up?” Root asked… and then Shaw finally put it together.

_The man slapped her across her eyebrow. The door was opened. He gave her twenty-four hours, but tied her up. And then there were two glasses on the bar._

It was a trap.

“Get down, Root,” Shaw yelled, just as bullets flew across the room. Shaw covered Root’s body until she was sure she had her weapons out again. “North, south,” Shaw instructed and the two women stood up to return fire as they stood back to back.

Three men had reentered the apartment with powerful guns. Shaw shot two of them in the shoulder and kneecaps. Root used both guns to bring down Dominic. The three men lay in agony, wailing from their carefully placed, incapacitating wounds.

Shaw closed the door just as a neighbor poked out her head. “Garbage disposal backed up,” she said because it was the first thing that came to her mind.

“Duct tape?” Root asked Sameen, but she shook her head.

“Absolutely not. We’ll be known as the _Duct Tape Gang_. No way,” Shaw said, worried about their reputation.

“How did you know?” Root asked enamored at how intuitive Sameen was.

“They left the door opened,” Shaw explained. “We don’t have much time.”

* * *

The two women walked back to a very defiant Krista. “You set her up?” Shaw said, grabbing the woman by the lapels of her jacket.

“I need that information. I thought if Sam knew anything… well, let’s just say I knew she wouldn’t give it up for old time’s sake,” Krista said.

“I really don’t like her,” Shaw said, looking back at Root. “What were you thinking?”

“Didn’t you _ever_ have a bad relationship?” Root took the time out to ask.

“I didn’t really do relationships,” Shaw admitted and decided she, therefore, couldn’t fault Root.

“Ladies?” Krista had the audacity to interject. Shaw dropped her so that she bounced back in the chair with a loud thud.

“Were they working for you?” Shaw asked, getting close enough that Krista could see her nostrils flaring.

“No, they just told me that I could either deliver the information, or someone who might know,” Krista explained.

“You _need_ the money?” Shaw asked, looking around at how expensive the apartment looked.

“I had a couple of bad deals,” Krista explained.

Shaw looked back at Root. “Do you know who Dominic works for?” Root asked.

“No, it’s all via the dark network. You get bids on information and you put name out there. It’s all through messengers,” Krista explained. “If I had anything, Dominic would have passed it along and shared the money.”

Root thought over what Krista was telling her and knew it could all be true. “Why not just ask me?” she asked.

Krista looked at Shaw before answering. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“Well, Krista, you went to a whole lot of trouble barking up the wrong tree. I don’t know anything about the program and I haven’t heard anything about it except that people are looking for it. I wish you had just come to me. Now, you’re going to have people looking for you and they seem to be the dangerous kind,” Root said.

The weight of the mistake Krista made bore down on her and she hung her head.

“We’re running out of time, Root,” Shaw reminded her.

“We have to take her with us,” Root decided.

“What?” Shaw asked of the woman whom she wanted to punish. “Take her where?”

“Krista’s going to be our messenger,” Root said calmly, even though sirens could be heard in the street below. “We’re going to untie you now. Don’t do anything stupid, Krista. Shaw’s wanted to snap you in two since she met you. I won’t ask her to stop next time.”

Shaw was not sure this was a good idea at all, but trusted Root enough to follow her lead. “Do I have to remind everyone that she tried to set you up just now?” she pointed out.

“Yes, that was terrible,” Root said and clicked her tongue. “I don’t like it when people put Sameen in danger.”

“I was threatened. I swear, “ Krista tried, but Sameen told her to shut up.

“You knew because they left the door opened?” Root asked Sameen again about knowing something was wrong.

“That and the fact that when you’re really upset with someone, you don’t slap their forehead. You do this,” Sameen said and hauled off, punching Krista, and knocking her out.  Satisfied with her action, Sameen then pulled on her jacket. 

“Oh,” Root said, watching the woman slump down the wall. “Now we have to carry her.”

“I should have thought of that,” Sameen grimaced as she picked the tall woman up and threw her over her shoulder.

* * *

The two women made their way down the back staircase as the cops banged on the door of the neighbor who had called them about the noise. Shaw stood Krista up against the wall of the alley as she peeked outside to the street. “Put her in the trunk,” Shaw said and went to the street to collect her car.

“Hey, move that, would you?” Fusco called over to Shaw without acknowledging her.

“Sure thing,” Shaw said, and backed her car up and into the alleyway.

Root deposited Krista into the trunk and got in as Shaw drove away.

“How did Lionel know?” Root asked as she hid behind the tinted window.

Shaw waved her phone to indicate she had texted him. While she carried the woman down the stairs.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Shaw sat alongside Krista in a booth uptown. Root told Sameen she’d be back in twenty minutes and Shaw was holding her to that.

Krista’s head was reeling from the blow. “I guess I kind of deserved that,” she said hoping to decrease her chances of being harmed again.

“What you deserved, Root wouldn’t let me do,” Shaw said, eating three eggs well done, four turkey sausages and toast.

Looking down at her watch because she was literally counting the minutes, Shaw finally saw Root appear in the doorway. She walked over and sat opposite Shaw and put her hand out to thank her. Then, she ordered a BLT, without the B. “And no mayo,” she said of the classic bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich.

“You just asked them to hold the best part,” Shaw pointed out.

“The bacon is bad for you,” Root said, and watched as Sameen pulled back from the bad news.

“So, you want lettuce and tomato? You’re eating a salad …. In-between two pieces of bread,” Sameen felt it necessary to point out.

“Yes,” Root said smiling.

Of all the things Shaw struggled to understand about Root; like why the woman who set them up was dining with them; her food habits were the biggest mystery.

“What are you going to do with me?” Krista had to ask.

“Well, this is for you,” Root said, sliding a brown envelope across the table.

“What’s this?” Krista asked.

“It’s your new passport and bank account,” Root said and Shaw stopped chewing because she didn’t think the woman deserved any parting gifts.

“We’re _helping_ her?” Shaw asked, her mouth full of food. She damn near choked.

“Drink some water, Sweetie,” Root said, addressing Shaw’s need first. “We’re protecting her so that she’ll go away,” Root said, looking at Krista. “Your ticket to Paris is in there. Once you get to your new apartment, you’ll establish a new identity online. You’ll contact your dark web friends and tell them you’ve heard the machine is in Europe somewhere.”

“Suppose she doesn’t?” Shaw asked, having done as Root suggested and downed the water.

“She’s going to because she’s signing over temporary control of her company to BEAR. If she does as she’s told, it will be returned to her. If she doesn’t, I’ll run it into the ground,” Root promised.

“You’re more devious than I ever gave you credit for,” Shaw openly admitted.

“Really?” Root asked. “After the tazing, the drugging and the zip tying?”

Shaw’s head bobbed back and forth as she considered that valid question. “Yeah, but that was with me.”

* * *

While the police checked out the neighbor’s story, they found no trace of the apartment’s occupant. “Sounds like whoever was here first, shot back at these guys,” the cop reported to Fusco who just happened to be in the neighborhood.

“I’m telling you,” one of the shouted from the stretcher. “One was short and angry and the other one was really tall.”

“These guys have a rap sheet a mile long. I wouldn’t listen to anything they say,” Lionel suggested, professing his disinterest since it was just a robbery gone wrong.

* * *

Three days later, the new Ima Slutzky sat in her apartment and worked diligently to put the message out there. She knew better than to double-cross the woman who was holding her company hostage. There wasn’t one person who didn’t do a double take when she used her new name.

“You thought of that name all by yourself?” Shaw asked when she heard what it was.

“Yes,” Root said, thinking it wasn’t her best, but she was pressed for time.

The television was on in the penthouse kitchen where the couple sat, enjoying a wonderfully prepared breakfast made by Isabelle.

“ _The police have no clues as to the ambush that occurred in the apartment of CEO Krista Harding a few days ago. Ms. Harding was not home at the time when apparently two different sets of robbers converged on the apartment. Three men were wounded and have been taken into custody. Their assailants have not been identified.”_

Isabelle turned her attention away from the television and looked at Sameen. There was a glimmer, something, in her eye that caught the woman’s attention. Shaw immediately felt the weight of the accusing stare.

“What? Why are you looking at me?” Shaw protested too much.

The more Isabelle stared, the closer Shaw came to caving. “I don’t know why she’s looking at me. Why would I be there?” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth.

“They have no idea who was involved,” Root said assuredly, from behind the paper she was reading.

“With today’s technology?” Isabelle proposed. “They’ll catch them soon enough.”

“No, they won’t,” Root said again, her face blocked by the newspaper.

“What she said,” Shaw said to the chef.

And they never would.

The machine had seen to that.


	102. X-Cut

When Shaw arrived at work that day, she sat down at her desk, but had the sneaky suspicion someone was watching. She turned to see her instinct was right. There, peering over the wall was her trusted assistant. Sameen stared back, wondering how long the woman would return the glare in silence.

Finally, Janine was done admiring her hero from afar and had to ask; “It was you, wasn’t it?” she whispered and then looked around.

“Could you be vaguer?” Shaw asked and turned back to her desk. This was her way of saying she wasn’t interested in the question and to go away.

Janine took it to mean; ‘let’s talk privately in my office where I will give you all the details. “What?” Janine said, rushing to sit next to Sameen’s desk and scaring her. “It was you,” she said and this time didn’t ask.

“You never wanted a career in the military, did you?” Sameen asked, thinking how the woman was so impatient to know.

“No, the uniforms, all the same? Yuck,” she answered truthfully. “As soon as I heard about it and how those guys were hit so precisely? I knew it was you.”

“Suppose those guys that you’re talking about have friends that want to know who hit them. And let’s say they come here and want to know if anyone knows anything. And then, they threaten to torture you because these kind of guys don’t care who they hurt,” Shaw said, hoping this would deter the woman from wanting the confirmation.

“I would never tell them! They could _torture_ me,” declared the woman who had no idea what torture was.

“Yeah, but then if they tortured you, I’d have to hunt them down and hurt them. And I’m pretty sure I’ve already reached my quota of kneecaps for the year,” Shaw explained… and winked.

The simple action mesmerized Janine as a silly grin covered her face. As far as she was concerned, Shaw had just declared her undying solidarity and protection. “You… would?” Janine’s lip quivered.

Sameen hadn’t really been listening. “Yes?” she guessed correctly.

“Thank you!” Janine said and reached over and hugged the stiff woman. “You are just the best. I will never forget this.”

“Well, I’d like to, so if you would let me go back to work,” Shaw said, unsure of what had just happened.

“Oh, you,” Janine said, waving her hand down at Sameen because she thought she was teasing. “I’ll go, but don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” she declared as she left on cloud nine.

* * *

“You sharing secrets, Shaw?” Fusco said, because of course he overheard the assistant’s promise. “You know she would cave in a second, right?”

Shaw didn’t answer. She got up and walked to her doorway and looked outside, twisting her head right and then left.

“Whatcha looking for?” Fusco asked, making himself at home and putting two cups of coffee on the desk.

“The sign that says; ' _Come in anytime and annoy Shaw_ '. I don’t see it and yet I swear people are reading it,” she sneered.

“It’s a membership,” Fusco retorted.

Shaw turned around to see that her friend was obviously settling in. “Well, you must be a gold member, because you’re really good at it.”

“This is the thanks I get?” Fusco said, opening a bag that contained the gooiest, fat-laden donuts he could find. “Want one?” he asked, as if he had to.

“Don’t think bringing me donuts is not going to make me throw you out,” Shaw said, as she took the oversized treat.

“So…,” Fusco began as he bit into the jelly-filled donut and squirted out the contents. “Oh, geez, this is a new tie,” he moaned as he put down the dessert and started to wipe it off with a napkin. “And I got a meeting with the captain later.”

Shaw motioned for him to take it off. She didn’t want to waste words because her mouth was enjoying the donut too much. Fusco did as instructed, and watched as Sameen stepped up on the chair and tangled it over the wall. “Would you be able to…?” she asked and the woman snatched the tie out of her hand to take care of it. Sameen stepped back down and said; “It will be done before you go.”

“What’s the captain want with you?” Shaw asked, always suspicious when your boss wanted to see you.

“Probably about closing cases. She’s always on us about that,” Fusco said.

“Well, you know I would help you if you need help,” Shaw said in a rare sincere moment with her friend.

“Yeah? Thanks, Shaw. You going soft on me?” Fusco asked because he had to.

“Right,” Shaw sneered.

“You know, I did some brilliant detective work last night,” he announced.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, still enjoying her donut.

“Yeah, there was this robbery shoot-out uptown,” he said, not looking at her.

“Maybe this is why you’re not closing murder cases, Fusco,” Shaw teased.

“Well, those guys are always calling me to help them. Anyways, I noticed that the ballistic reports showed no prior connections,” he said to assure Sameen her gun wasn’t identified.

“Is that right?” Shaw said, not showing how relieved she was.

“It’s like in that Brooklyn case. The tests are all done, but something screws up with it,” he noted.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked. “Or maybe there just isn’t any connection.”

“They checked street cameras, building camera, even traffic-cams around there. Nothing,” he said.

“I hope we’re done here, because I’m running out of donut,” Shaw said.

“HERE YOU GO!” Janine announced as she raced back in. She pulled Fusco up and threw the newly cleaned tie around his neck as he protested he could tie it himself. He looked over at Shaw for help, but she shook her head. She knew an unbeatable force when she saw one. Janine finished tying the tie and straightened it out and brushed off a piece of lint she saw on his sleeve. “You’re ready to go, Detective Fusco,” she announced and left the cubicle.

“Don’t ever fire her,” Fusco announced to Shaw.

* * *

The good detective took off for work, leaving Sameen to sit in her area and rest. She thought about what her friend had just shared. Obviously, the machine had taken it upon herself to mess with the cameras so that there was no incriminating evidence. But Root said it wasn’t working yet when Bear’s collar fried. So what, she wondered, caused that?

Surely, Root was working on that puzzle.

Sameen had no sooner come to that conclusion when she turned around to leave, and found Root in her doorway. ”Hey, I was just coming to you,” Shaw said as Root entered. “I was thinking about Bear’s collar,” Shaw said and Root smiled to think they were on the same page.

“Me, too,” Root said and slid her finger over the corner of Sameen’s mouth to feel the sticky substance of the donut. “Jelly?”

“Fusco,” Shaw answered.

“Oh,” Root answered because this one word told her that he brought the treat, but annoyed her nonetheless.

“What do you think caused that chip to fry?” Shaw asked.

“I think we need to go somewhere to get the answer,” Root said, slightly ahead of her girlfriend on the issue.

“Back to the… apartment?” Shaw whispered.

“Not quite,” Root said and took Sameen by the hand as they exited towards the elevator.

“Where then?” Shaw asked.

“Your mother’s,” Root said and Sameen wanted to ask why, but the elevator was crowded.

Finally, when they were out on the street together, Sameen got her chance to ask. “Why her?”

“You know when you have a beautiful plant in your house and your friend admires it?” Root said, setting up her example.

Shaw frowned. “No,” she said truthfully.

“And she wants to grow one just like it?” Root continued undaunted.

“No,” Shaw said again.

“And you give her a cutting from the plant?” Root persisted.

“No,” Sameen answered, wishing Root would choose another example.

“And from the small cutting, you can grow a whole new plant,” Root said, hoping it filled in the picture.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Shaw finally asked.

“I think your mother kept a cutting of the machine and is growing her own,” Root said plainly.

That, Shaw understood.


	103. Y-Chromosome

“So my mother cut off a piece of the machine and is growing her own?” Shaw asked, getting the general idea.

“I’m not sure,” Root admitted as they walked up the front steps of the brownstone that was now Azar’s residence.

“Okay, look,” Shaw said when they reached the top step and grabbed Root’s arm. “Are we upset, or worried, or …what?” Shaw needed the situation bottom lined.

“We could be,” Root said because she simply didn’t know the details yet.

Sameen felt like her fuse had been lit and blown out and lit again. She wasn’t sure what her tactic should be right now. They rang the doorbell and, much to their surprise; a young man appeared and opened it. “Who the hell are you?” Shaw asked gruffly.

“Come in, please. She is expecting you,” he smiled in a very friendly manner.

Sameen eyed him up and down as they walked in. “Where is Ayala? She’s supposed to …,” she barked, but her sister’s voice affirmed her presence.

“What time is it?” Ayala asked from the stairs, her state of dress clearly indicating she had been sleeping.

“You have _one_ job,” Shaw yelled up to her because she still believed she was in charge.

“Well, I was working on my night job last night and I am exhausted,” Ayala answered back, but not in an angry voice. Then, deciding she was too tired to listen to her sister yell, she turned around and went back. “Don’t worry, she’ll explain it all to you,” she assured Shaw. “You should take her on vacation,” she said from the upstairs landing and looking at Root. “She needs to relax more.” And with that, she was gone.

“First, I want to know who the hell he is. Then, I want to know what she’s talking about. And then, I want to know… what the hell is going on,” Shaw outlined her thoughts. “Then, I’m just going to smack her.”

* * *

“Good morning,” Azar greeted them in her usual warm and friendly voice. It made Root smile; Sameen, not so much. “Why would you hit your sister?”

“She’s annoying? For starters,” Shaw explained. “Okay, who is he?”

“Thank you, Alystair,” Azar smiled and he bowed his head and walked out of the room. “I told you that I had a small group of people who worked with me at one time,” she explained asking them to join her in the dining room. There were three place settings already laid out, as if she were expecting them. “Please have something,” she smiled.

“Where did he come from?” Shaw asked, standing behind a chair and refusing to sit.

“Ireland, I believe,” Azar answered truthfully. One look at Sameen’s face told her that’s not what she meant. “Oh, Alystair worked for me in Israel for a time. He’s very good with programming and martial arts.”

“You already have a bodyguard,” Sameen answered.

“I believe your sister wants to do more than babysit her mother,” Azar pointed out. “He’s very good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Shaw barked.

“I take it you’re here about the machine,” Azar said, pouring coffee for her guests. Her smile seemed to indicate she was neither surprised, nor concerned, even though her daughter was obviously peeved.

Root waited for Sameen to decide if she wanted to sit down before she, too, took a seat. “Did you detect the chip in Bear’s collar?” Root asked, pouring the milk from the small pitcher.

“Yes, I did, and before you…,” the older woman attempted to say, but didn’t get a chance.

“If you took a cutting from the machine, when Root thought you gave her the whole thing, and have decided to shadow her moves, I will personally see to it that your branch doesn’t take,” she warned.

Root bit her lip at how carefully Sameen had listened to her example, even if she didn’t quite understand it. Although it was perfectly clear to Root, Azar, on the other hand, had to think about that.

“I suggested to Sameen that you might have your own program working in tandem with the machine,” Root said, sipping the coffee, hoping to calm her girlfriend. “Because of the chip.”

Azar folded her hands in front of her. “She came to me,” she started. “When you were transferring her to the new location. I think she was hesitant and so she transferred some basic files to my computer. One of them, as you can imagine, was a heat detection program that uses the street cameras. It was already watching your visit to that horrid woman.”

“Wait, the machine gave you the cutting? How do you know she’s horrid,” Shaw asked, suddenly interested in how she knew about Krista.

“I met her,” Azar said plainly. “I’m excellent at reading body language,” she added and this annoyed her competitive daughter because SHE was excellent at reading body language. “Krista Harding has been on my radar,” she added.

“What radar?” Shaw asked.

“I keep track of people looking for the machine. Whenever people suspect it’s somewhere, the hackers swarm. I was watching her to make sure she didn’t suspect us.”

“She said she thought maybe I would be looking for it, too,” Root said.

“She’s a minor player, so she’s probably telling you the truth,” Azar assured Root.

“It would have been nice if you shared this info,” Shaw remarked.

“I didn’t know about your connection,” she said to Root. Until I saw her at the park and how she approached you.

“What’s to keep the machine from jumping ship and going somewhere else? She seems to make her own decisions pretty easily,” Shaw pointed out.

“She’s got a point,” Root said and that made Sameen even cockier.

Azar slowly cut three pieces of pecan pie and placed them on the plates. She then sat back down. “It’s really very good,” she said, taking a bite.

Sameen _was_ hungry. Finally, she shook her head and gave in. Apparently, there was simply no hurrying her mother along.

“Let me explain,” she began, now that her guests were eating. “When I hired Alystair, I had no idea he could bake. It was certainly not a requirement of his job. But now that I know that he can, well, it’s quite delightful. He made this pie,” Azar said and immediately, Shaw spit it back onto the plate. “Sameen!”

“You’re eating the food a bodyguard made you? Are you insane?” Shaw asked, thinking this violated at least a dozen CIA rules, not to mention the bakers’ union rules.

Root immediately saw Sameen’s point, and didn’t dare touch the food now.

“Have you forgotten _everything_ they taught you?” the former operative asked her mother.

“He’s very loyal,” Azar assured Sameen. “His father worked for me.”

And then, Sameen’s eyes got wide with horror. She shot up from her chair and leaned over the table. “He’s not… I don’t have…,” she asked, unable to complete the thought.

Root knew exactly where her angry Persian was going with this and looked back at Azar to get it. “Are you asking if he is my child? No!” she said, when she realized Sameen was asking if he was her brother.

“Good, because I can barely stand the one you have,” Sameen said and then pulled down on her jacket. “You talk to her,” she said to Root as she got up.

“Where are you…?” Root asked because it was obvious Sameen had something to do.

“I’m going to interview the bodyguard,” she replied and set out to do just that.

Root looked back at Azar to see if she had any idea just what Sameen’s idea of interviewing might be. She didn't.

* * *

“My point I was trying to make before, Samantha, was that the machine has many different capabilities. It has learned from her time with me to calculate the probabilities of events, especially about her caretakers. She didn’t want to be completely neutral when you transferred her over to the new location, so she reconnected here. She latched onto your coordinates and informed me where you were. Then, when you left, she detected the chip. I merely caused the energy surge to take place when poor unsuspecting Bear walked in the street. She was protecting you,” Azar noted.

“And herself,” Root added.

“You and Sameen are her caretakers, now. You have to decide what you will use her for. There may be some parts of her you don’t need; or other parts that will come in quite handy. Like Alystair’s baking,” Azar laughed as she took another bite.

Just then, a large crash was heard from the other room. There was grunting and more things falling. Azar was about to get up when Root put her hand on her arm. “Sameen likes to interview them alone,” she explained.

“But it sounds like…,” Azar was going to point out, but she realized Root already knew. “Oh.” She cleared her throat and sat back down. With each new crash from the other room, Azar’s confidence waned. “Should we?” she had to ask, but Root simply shook her head no. 

After another two full minutes of loud noises, including some glass breaking, the dining room door swung open. Sameen stood, no, leaned on the frame and was visibly out of breath. Her hair was still neatly pulled back in a ponytail, but the loose strands of hair were more in number now. As Root suspected she would do, Sameen had surprised the bodyguard; attacking him, to see if he was good. The fact that he came up behind Sameen now, not looking any worse for wear, proved he was a worthy adversary.

“He…can…stay,” Sameen announced and walked back in to sit down. “Good pie,” she said, shoving a piece in her mouth, now that he passed phase one of his interview.

“I wish you had just asked for his resume,” Azar said and worried what her living room looked like.

“Mur effektive,” Sameen said, now that she was enjoying her opponent’s dessert.

* * *

The pie and coffee were finished and Sameen asked Root if she were satisfied with her answers. She said she was because she understood that the machine had, once again, proactively sought out Azar.

“I’ll see you out,” Azar offered because she was a gracious host, but her daughter insisted that she not. In fact, she pretty much grabbed Root’s arm after kissing her mother goodbye. That kiss distracted the woman from seeing the mess in her living room until after her daughter was down the front steps.

“SAMEEN!” her mother called, but Shaw was pushing Root into the car and driving away fast.  The woman turned back to see the couch cushions thrown in different directions; the end tables were moved and only one lamp remained intact. There were no books left on one shelf and picture frames were misaligned on the walls.

“I am not cleaning that up,” Ayala said in passing.

Azar began the slow process of picking up after her daughter when Alystair insisted that he would do it. “She’s the toughest opponent I’ve met,” he confided to his boss.

* * *

“So, you’re okay with her explanation?” Shaw asked, as they drove home.

“Do you know the salad you tried at the Asian fusion restaurant? The one with the bamboo shoots in it?” Root asked.

Sameen wasn’t sure how they got onto food, but she was okay with that. “Yes, I asked you not to tell me what it was.”

“Right,” Root said even though she had. “Well, if you plant bamboo in your yard, it will take over.”

“Why…would we grow it when we can just get it already in the salad?” Shaw asked.

“We’re not going to, but if we did, we would have to keep an eye on it because without careful watch, it will take over everything in its path,” Root explained.

In spite of being in the middle of Manhattan congestion, Shaw stopped the car sharply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Azar was right; the machine has a lot of possibilities. And if we don’t decide how to use it, it could take over everything in its path,” Root clarified.

“Oh,” Shaw said, as horns blared and people yelled for her to move. She started to move along the street again. “Do we know how to do that?”

“We’re going to have to figure it out…together,” Root said, aware of how arduous that task could be.

“Okay,” Sameen said, because she believed she could pretty much figure anything with Root. “Just no more metaphors, please.”

“Okay,” Root agreed.

“And don’t tell me what’s in the salads. It ruins it,” Shaw explained.

“Promise,” Root said, pushing the hair off her girlfriend’s face.


	104. Zeroing In

Ayala’s spur-of-the-moment suggestion wasn’t lost on Root. In fact, she thought about it on the way back to the Penthouse. “Let’s go away,” Root said, after dinner that night. Isabelle had just served a marinated steak that Sameen uttered was better than sex, and she was still trying to backtrack.

“I was just trying to compliment her,” Shaw explained, still feeling guilty and not listening. “I didn’t mean…it… _literally_ ,” she furthered her explanation.

“What?” Root asked, because she was busy planning said vacation. “Oh, Sweetie, I proved a long time ago I can compete with anything on your food hierarchy,” she smiled sweetly. “And win. I mean, you never moan like that; even for steak!”

Shaw stared at her; unable to think of a good comeback to that truth. “So, what are we doing about the machine?” she segued poorly.

Root stretched her legs out on the couch where the two were sitting. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

“Well, if you don’t know, no one knows,” Shaw said, because it was true. This was one operation she didn’t mind being second in charge.

“Let’s go away,” Root said, the plan finally taking shape.

“Oh, I see you’re _asking_ me,” Shaw smiled. “That’s good. Not going to have two strange men drag me to the plane?”

“I hate to repeat,” Root said truthfully.

“Where are we going?” Shaw asked, wondering what impact this would have on the playoff season. Being a romantic… was still not first nature.

“Where do you want to go?” Root asked, opened to suggestions.

“Some place hot,” Shaw said.

“Ladera,” Root said.

“Yeah?” Shaw questioned.

“Has everything we need. Condominiums with private swimming pool, overlooking the Piton Mountains and the Caribbean Sea,” Root said.

“You had me at condo,” Shaw said, thinking it would be great to getaway. “No jungles, though, right? This is a real vacation where we don’t have to broker world peace or save an indigenous tribe that the cable company wants to hook up with?”

“A real vacation,” Root confirmed. “Just beautiful scenery, good food, and you swimming naked in a pool. Oh, I already said that.”

“Very funny,” Shaw replied. “You played that – ‘ _oh, I’m too fair to go in the sun’_ – card the last time,” Shaw reminded her. “And I know how you hate to repeat.”

“True,” Root conceded and decided right then and there, someone’s luggage was going to get lost.

“Are we going to need permission?” Shaw asked.

“I think Janine will let you go,” Root laughed.

“I meant…,” and Shaw jerked her head toward Root’s laptop. “Although,” she decided,”… I better give Janine some warning.”

“Here’s what I think,” Root said, pulling Sameen in closer to her. “Let’s just go. We need to rest and decide what to do about the machine. We’ll put together our thoughts, you can swim naked, and then when we return, we’ll act on our decision.”

“I heard that about swimming, you know,” Sameen thought she’d mention.

“Did I say it again?” Root asked innocently. “I guess it’s on my mind.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Sameen felt compelled to point out.

“It’s just tan lines look terrible on you,” Root tried.

“So not buying this,” Shaw remarked back.

* * *

The following morning, Root and Shaw explained to their respective concerned parties that they were going away for a few days. Only one of them took it well. Root promised Bear he could stay with Gen and he seemed quite pleased with the arrangement.

“I wish I had thought to ask Gen to watch Janine,” Shaw said, after assuring the woman she would be okay for a few days without her.

An hour later, the two women sat on a commercial flight to St. Lucia out of JFK airport.

“Damn, I forgot to tell Fusco something,” Shaw said and called her friend. “Just check in on them, would you? She’s got a new bodyguard. I want him checked out,” she told Fusco who assured her he would. Then, satisfied everyone was taken care of; Sameen sat back in her seat and looked out the window. “Hey, Root, look,” she said as she peered through the glass. “Doesn’t that guy look like Reese?”

“Don’t be silly,” Root said, pulling Sameen back into a long kiss.

“No, look,” Sameen tried because there was a six foot plus guy in a suit on the tarmac where the luggage was being loaded.

“What would Reese be doing out here,” Root said and pulled the shade down on the window. “Too glary,” she lied.

* * *

Outside the plane, an airline worker stopped the tall man in the suit. “Sir, you can’t remove a suitcase…,” he was explaining when the man flashed the appropriate TSA badge.

“We have reason to believe this suitcase contains items not authorized,” the man said authoritatively.

The worker looked at his badge to make sure this was the same guy and it was. “Okay,” he said, because it was one less bag for him to throw into the bowels of the aircraft.

* * *

Six hours later, the couple entered the spacious condominium that was theirs. “Look at this view,” Shaw said of the gorgeous scenery outside their window. “Is that just for us?” she asked of the private massive pool.

“Yes,” Root said, tipping the bellhop generously.

“Did they say when our luggage would arrive?” Shaw asked and Root said it was being delivered straight from the airport and should be there soon.  “Look at this,” Sameen said of the bottle of champagne waiting for them on the counter. “Did you?”

“Not I,” Root said and handed the card to Sameen with her name on it.

Sameen opened it, read it quickly, and shoved it in her pocket. “Fusco,” she said, and popped the cork and poured two glasses. “To vacation,” she toasted.

“Lionel sent you champagne?” Root asked, thinking it was sweet, even if it was out of character.

“I told you my friends were real pains in the ass,” Shaw declared.

“Well, I think it was sweet,” Root said and sipped the bubbly concoction.

The doorbell rang and Sameen shot to the door, anxious to get her bag. “What do you mean?” Root heard her ask more than once.

“The airline says it has no record of your bag on that flight, ma’am,” the polite staff member explained.

“This is ridiculous! What am I supposed to ….,” Shaw was asking as he put down both of Root’s bags and left. “Wait a minute…”

Root bit down hard on her lip and tried to look upset and surprised that Sameen’s bag was lost. “I don’t know…what…,” she tried, but the jig was up as her eyes burst out laughing.

“You had them lose my ….was that Reese? That was Reese. Oh my God, Root. You had him steal my luggage!” Shaw yelled.

“Maybe,” Root laughed, but her eyes told the truth.

“Root, I can’t walk around naked for a week!” Shaw tried to point out.

“I brought your favorite t-shirts,” Root said, and grabbed one of her suitcases to prove she had thought of everything. “See?” she asked, holding it out.

“Did you bring the Yankees one? You know I like to sleep in that,” Shaw asked, trying to sound upset.

“Yes,” Root said, digging and finding it. “Although I doubt you’ll need it.”

“I can’t believe you stole my clothes. Well, at least you didn’t taze, drug, and zip tie me,” Shaw said, trying to look on the bright side.

“Oh, Sameen, the night’s still young,” Root said, pulling Shaw in to kiss her hard.

“Woot?” Shaw asked; her lips smashed against Root’s; when she heard the noise. “Izthatatasa?”

“Maybe,” Root said, having pressed the Taser just a little to tease her. “A girl can’t be too careful.”

“We’re on a remote island in a secured resort. Why would you need that?” Shaw asked of the weapon.

“Well,” Root said, putting it back in her suit case. “There’s this private island a little ways from here,” Root explained.

“So? What’s on that island?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

Root may have gotten away with stealing Shaw’s suitcase, but she wasn’t going to get away with the truth about a little side trip she was hoping they could take.

“The machine… noticed a lot of activity coming from that island,” Root said, pouring the champagne and hoping the trip wasn’t ruined.

“Oh, I see,” Shaw said. “This is my fault. I should have asked you if you actually understood the meaning of the word… _vacation_.”

“I just want to check it out,” Root all but pleaded.

But she needn’t feel as if she had to. She was talking to the woman who would follow her to the ends of the earth. Shaw might bitch about it, but she would go.

“And am I supposed to go naked to this stakeout?” Shaw smirked.

“Oh, well, you have your favorite t-shirt,” Root pointed out. “Besides, we’ll probably have to wear wet suits.”

“So, we’re not driving up to this house. We’re going to just appear on the beach?” Shaw said, a scene from a James Bond movie playing in her head.

“Something like that,” Root said, her shoulder shrugging because she hadn’t planned that all out yet.

“What are you going to teach our kids, Root?” Shaw asked, downing the second glass of champagne.

It wasn’t the first time Shaw had uttered a remark about their future children. “Do…you want…kids, Sameen?” Root asked.

When Shaw asked those questions, they were always rhetorical. She never actually expected Root to answer. “Well…I…,” she sputtered. “I..think... you’d be good with them; sometimes. So, yeah, I think you should have some,” Shaw answered.

There was little that threw Root off track, even when Sameen tried to play verbal hot potato. “A few…like you?” she asked, getting into Shaw’s personal space and watching her grow uncomfortable.

But then, the strangest thing happened.

Maybe it was because Shaw had been thinking about it; or maybe because she had been watching Root with Gen and the way they laughed together; or maybe it was feeling jealous when Krista Harding talked about her history with Root; or all the times she talked about Root to Iris, but Sameen was becoming aware of how much she always wanted to have Root in her life.

It could have been any or all of those things.

It was _not_ the message on Lionel’s card that accompanied the bubbly gift which reminded Shaw she wasn’t getting any younger and that he wouldn’t be around forever to be her best man.

It was most _definitely_ _not_ because of that.

But for whatever the reasons, Sameen suddenly felt okay talking about this. For the first time she could remember, she could think about the days past tomorrow.

And she wanted all of them to be with Root.

“Yes, like me,” she finally said. “Well, they can be smart like you, but they can’t have you fair skin or they’ll spend the summers indoors. They can be tall like you, but they have to have my strength because you can’t even manage your luggage. Oh, and they have to have my sense of humor and my ability to lie because you absolutely suck at it,” Shaw listed.

“You want them to lie?” Root pointed out.

“Okay, good point. They can get that from you, then we’ll be able to spot every lie they ever tell,” Shaw teased.

Root’s heart swelled with joy that they were having this conversation. She pulled Sameen to sit outside as the sun set over the picturesque view.

“And they have to have my eating habits, otherwise we’ll all starve,” she kept going.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Root said, pulling Sameen onto her lap.

“Andmymanners,” Sameen said, even though Root’s lips were pressed up against them. “Because you’re just rude,” she continued when Root let her go.

“Do you really think so?” Root asked, trying to keep the playful banter up.

But the sun was sinking; shining off the waters and reflecting in Root’s eyes. “No,” Shaw said, looking into her face. “You are the kindest, most wonderful human being I know.”

“I love you, Sameen Shaw,” Root smiled and truly expected the usual response of “ _I know_.”

Instead, she heard;

“I love you more, Root. I always will.”

Then, the super cool geek and the hot as hell arrow fell into each other’s arms; making the sinking sun jealous for missing out on the beautiful sight of these two people in love.


	105. Epilogue One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if that title actually sticks. To include proposals, weddings, babies, would be at least another 26 chapters, no?  
> If I've not solved all the riddles, there will be Epilogue Two - and so on - until I get it right. So, it's not the end yet.  
> I would like for them to return to work at least - to make sure Janine makes it through okay, right?

Grace walked into the kitchen with the teacup that hadn’t been touched. Harold simply didn’t know a better cure for anything than tea. “I’m getting worried,” Grace confessed to him.

“How long has she been like that?” Harold asked, unable to recall.

“Since she got here, and I suspect since Sameen told her she was going on vacation,” Grace shared because that’s what she deduced.

“How did she find us?” Harold wondered out loud because the woman appeared on their doorstep hours ago.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’m pretty sure she said Bear texted her,” Grace said slowly, unsure of exactly how that could be.

“Maybe… she meant Genrika,” Harold said. He was very much aware that people felt they understood the dog’s barks and yelps. But text messages?

“Gen’s with her now; maybe that will help. I swear, Harold, Bear and that woman are moping in there in exactly the same way,” Grace whispered.

* * *

Bear had been temporarily distracted with his visit to Genrika. But since Janine showed up, the poor canine was feeling his own missing more.

“Oh, I know I’m being silly,” the adult woman said to Genrika, who sat in front of her with the box of tissues, ready to be dispensed.

“Not at all,” Gen reassured her.

“It’s just that it was sudden, you know?” Janine tried to explain. “I mean, we had the whole work day planned, but then she called and said they were taking off. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they’re on vacation. No one deserves it more,” Janine said, but was sobbing at the end of the sentence.

“I know you’re happy for them,” the young empath assured her. “But you’re missing them.”

“Her,” Janine corrected. “I am missing… Shaaawwww,” came the wail. 

Gen raised her eyebrows and looked at her canine consultant; who had little to offer except to push his head under Janine’s hand. Humans like that.

“It’s not that I don’t miss Ms. Groves,” Janine felt she should elaborate, as she took a deep breath to regain her composure. “But I never worked closely with her.”

“Of course,” Gen said and held the wastepaper basket closer so Janine could drop the used tissues in it. “Shaw has…,” the young tween began, “…this _effect_ … on people.”

It was hard to say who responded first, but in truth, Bear beat Janine with his affirmative bark by a second before she said; “YES! Yes, that’s it!”

“It’s like the more she doesn’t want the attention, the more attentive we become,” said the twelve year old who had given this some thought.

“You’re very smart for a kid,” Janine uttered, feeling completely understood.

“I’m older than my years,” Gen explained. “Anyway, it’s okay to feel this way. And Shaw will be back soon, so that’s all good, right?”

“Right,” Janine said, blowing her nose one more time before taking a deep breath and smiling. “What do you say we take Bear out for a treat?”

“He’d like that,” Genrika said and asked Grace if it would be okay.

“I hope they’re having fun, wherever they are,” said a much calmer, faith-renewed Janine.

* * *

_Wherever_ they were – happened to be on another island; a hop, skip and a jump from their resort, at the moment. The plane ride there was very short, and now Root rented a car so they could purchase wet suits, before heading to the chartered boat. 

Seeing Shaw try on a suit that hugged her every curve, only delayed the process.

“Ordinarily,” Shaw finally said after three attempts to find the right one, “…I’d say hot pink would be great under water, but I’m thinking it’s not the color you want when you’re uninvited somewhere.” She whispered all of this into Root’s ear and _almost_ caught her attention.

“Could we get this for home?” Root asked, thinking their next fantasy could be in their swimming pool.

“No,” Shaw rolled her eyes and proceeded to ask for the black one. Root was disappointed, but not deterred as she grabbed the hot pink selection.

“I take it back...,” Root cooed as they put all their purchases in the rental car. “...for an arrow, you have some beautiful curves.”

Shaw got into the driver’s seat and stared at Root. “You know that makes no sense, right?”

“Does to me,” Root assured the woman of her affections.

* * *

An hour later, Shaw was negotiating the price of the boat that would take them scuba diving, while Root sat on a bench working on her computer. She finally heard Sameen utter the word ‘ _fine_ ’ in her less than fine voice.

“I don’t think we have much wiggle room here, Sweetie,” Root said because the owner of the boat wasn’t asking too many questions.

“I got him to throw in snacks,” Shaw said, because she believed in the art of negotiating.

“That’s my girl,” Root said and kissed the semi-pouting lip because Sameen hadn’t really come out on top in the deal.

“So, I meant to ask this when we left before, but what’s the plan?” Shaw asked, figuring Root would have told her if there really was one.

“We…,” and she hesitated which Sameen took as a poor sign. “Come up here, on the beach,” Root pointed to a spot on the map. “We’ll leave our suits there, “ and as if it were necessary, she pointed back to the spot. “They’re having a party there tonight, so we’ll just come up to the back of the house and start to mingle. Mostly rich types, is my guess. Do you know this used to be the getaway residence of Princess Margaret?”

“Who?” Shaw asked, more concerned with the layout than the people.

“Queen Elizabeth’s sister,” Root said and grabbed another duffle bag. “Let’s get dressed.”

“So far, Root, all I know is where I’m dropping my wet suit,” Shaw pointed out as they got on the boat.

“And mingling; I did mention mingling,” Root said.

“Okay, look,” Shaw said, pulling on her girlfriend to stop. “I’m guessing these aren’t just rich people causing the activity. I’m guessing they’re not CEO’s, but perhaps more sordid sorts. And we’re not going in there unarmed.”

Root patted the side of the duffle bag. “Got it all here,” she whispered.

“And while I’m mingling, what are you doing?” Shaw asked.

“I’ll be getting a reading on where their hot room is. I’ll go there, get in, link up to the machine, let her look at the data and determine if it’s a threat,” Root laid out the details.

“And what am I doing?” Shaw asked again.

“You are the distraction,” Root smiled.

“But I’m an armed distraction, right?” Shaw asked, just to be sure.

“Come on,” Root said, pulling her to come with her to the small room downstairs.

Minutes later, Shaw stood there staring at a low-cut white cocktail dress that was going to be folded up in a small bag and attached to her utility belt. “I swear, if you don’t have one of these,” Shaw barked, as she undressed to put on her wet suit.

“Ooh,” Root grimaced apologetically. “You’ll have to lose the bra. Spaghetti straps on the dress, sorry.” There wasn’t an ounce of regret in Root’s tone and Sameen stared as she considered the fact that Root was very familiar with her choice of bra.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said, nodding her head. “Where will the gun…” she was asking when Root handed her a matching clutch bag.

“380 in there,” Root smiled.

Shaw shouldn’t have been surprised that the details of this operation were so sketchy, but she was. “So, if your all-seeing over-lord decides she isn’t happy the output, then what?”

 “We blow it up,” Root said, getting ready. 

“We blow it up,” Sameen said and started to get undressed and put on her wet suit.

“You have a hair…,” Root said when she noticed the strand and pushed it under the wet suit head piece. Touching Sameen’s face made her stop. “Be careful, okay?”

“You, too. Do we know if there are guards there?” Shaw asked, as they made their way to the top of the boat.

“Some,” Root said and they stood at the side of the boat as the owner brought it to a stop. “See you below,” she said and with that, the couple sat on the edge, and one after the other, fell into the water.

* * *

Shaw was trained in scuba diving and watched carefully as Root glided close by. She should have asked Root about these waters, but they were pretty close to shore and she didn’t expect any trouble.

Root forgot to mention the black tip shark cave located at the south of the island. When she saw a few up ahead, she motioned to Sameen. Shaw’s instincts immediately took over and she pulled Root behind her as they went by the five foot shark. Her glare was enough, even in dim light, to warn the fish that in spite of her stepping into his territory, she would take him on. Survival instinct on his part kicked in, and he swam away.

* * *

As the water became shallow, the beach appeared and the two women emerged. Shaw was ripping her equipment off and struggled in a fit, to get it off as quickly as possible. “Sharks, Root!” she yelled and Root asked her to keep her voice down.

“They don’t bother submerged swimmers,” Root pointed out.

“Well, as long as they got your memo, because apparently, my copy got lost,” said the woman who had never been on a mission without any kind of plan.

Oh, except every time with Root.

“Over here,” Root said and they found a patch of trees they could safely undress behind.

“I really should have asked this before, but … how are we getting _off_ this island?” Shaw asked.

“We’re going to hot wire a car,” Root said and Sameen chastised herself for not asking more questions.

“And how will I know…,” Shaw asked, but Root took out their ear pieces and put one in each of their ears.

“I’ll keep you posted via this,” Root said. “Oh, by the way, you’re Anne Moore, a doctor and I’m Sara Cook, a UN translator,” she added with a squeal.

“We have to address your fantasy issues when we get back,” Shaw said because she was certain no operative ever squealed with delight over their undercover identities.

“Oh-my-God, that would be _great_ ,” Root exclaimed, taking Shaw up on her offer in a whole different manner than she meant it.

“No…, I meant…,” Shaw was going to explain, but Root was too busy getting dressed. She slipped into a black dress and was done, waiting for Shaw who struggled to find the small pack with her dress in it. Root helped her and held the dress out, so she could step into it.

“I’ll zip you up,” Root said and turned Shaw around.

“I suppose we’re not walking up there in high heels,” Sameen theorized, just at Root produced a pair for Shaw to wear.

“Wait until you get closer. Now, here’s your gun,” Root said, the way mothers do when they’re sending their kids off to school with a packed lunchbox.

“We are _so_ going to talk about this whole mission,” Shaw balked because Root had broken every single imaginable rule. Including, kissing the other member of your team before you leave.

* * *

The next few minutes were spent with both women getting into position. Shaw walked up from the beach and when a security guard stopped her, she explained her date had suggested a rendezvous, but never showed. It helped to make her case that she was now bent over at the waist, putting her heels back on. The two guards immediately came to her aid, one holding onto her as the other helped put on her shoes.

“You boys are so sweet,” Shaw smiled; her performance as a distraction was Oscar worthy.

Shaw moved inside and grabbed a flute glass of champagne. “Root?” she said into her glass and felt her heart pound until she heard her partner’s voice through the piece.

“Well, this was easier than I thought,” Root said because one guard was asleep and the other was easily tazed. “I’m in,” she said to Shaw. “Are you okay?”

“I’m working it,” Shaw assured her, finding this similar to undercover work she used to do. Truly all Sameen had to do was to stroll through the crowd to get attention drawn her way. She even managed to pass by someone choking on a hors d’oeuvre. She unceremoniously slapped him hard on his back, smiling and commenting; “Right place, right time,” to the onlookers.

* * *

Root was busy opening up her tablet and allowing the machine to analyze the data stream. She was almost done when she heard the click of a gun behind her. “Would you mind telling me what you think you’re doing?” the man’s voice asked.

She turned slowly and smiled. “I was actually fascinated by the amount of technology in one little room,” she said truthfully.

“Who are you?” the man asked, even though he didn’t care.

“Sara Cook,” she said and went to extend her hand, but he didn’t take her up on the offer.

“If you’re here, I’m guessing you must know something about what we’re looking for,” the man surmised.

“I was looking for the ladies room and stumbled in here,” Root said as close to convincing at anyone could get.

Shaw’s looks might have gotten her through the crowd, but Root’s innocence was helping her at the moment.

Until… someone bumped into Shaw and caused her hearing piece to fall out. Being a gentleman, he bent over and retrieved it, recognizing it for what it was. “What do we have here?” he asked, suddenly not staring at Sameen’s cleavage.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you without my hearing aid,” Shaw gave it a shot, but he didn’t buy it. He went to grab her hand, which of course was just plain stupid. Shaw twisted his arm behind him and pushed into a crowd of people. People turned and looked at them. “He tried to touch…,” she said innocently and put her hand near her breast. The man was quickly pulled up and punched for being so rude.

Unfortunately, he had friends who were now in pursuit of Shaw. “Root?” she said, pushing the piece back in her ear. “We have a problem.” But there was no response which only furthered Shaw’s concerns. “Hold these,” she said to a guy and handed him her shoes. Then, she went searching for Root.

* * *

“I have two choices,” the man said waving his gun. “I can ask you again what you’re doing, or I can shoot you.”

His threat was serious and heartfelt. He was going to shoot her. But instead of being threatened, his captive broke out in a big smile. “Why are you smiling at me?” he just had to ask.

“I’m not smiling at you,” Root said, breaking out in a chin-to-forehead smile.

Shaw didn’t ask questions. Someone had a gun on Root and so, she pulled her 380 and shot. Sorta in the kneecap area. She kicked his gun out of the way and whacked him on the back of his head as he knelt in pain.

“Ready?” Shaw asked because their time was up.

“One minute,” Root said, annoying her partner because they had no time.

“Root!” Shaw barked, but the techie was allowing the information to upload to the machine.

Footsteps could be heard outside as Sameen locked the door and shoved a piece of furniture in front of it.

“Ready!” Root said and opened a door that lead to a room with windows.

Shaw held her gun on the front door until they were safely through to the other room. All the time they were moving, Root was destroying the contents of the tablet in case they were caught. “I’ll leave Netflix,” she felt it necessary to share and Sameen grunted at her to keep moving.

* * *

Minutes later, they were outside, running towards the front of the house, ready to hot-wire a car.

Except, there weren’t any.

The guests had all been picked up and driven there from all points across the big island.

“Well, there’s a detail we missed,” Root summed up as they stood in the vacant driveway. She tapped her earpiece and signaled the distress code to the machine.

As the sound of men shouting orders got closer to the couple, Sameen and Root turned to greet their accosters. “Hello, boys,” Shaw was saying, but they had been warned about the sexy woman.

“ _Now_ would be good,” Root said out loud.

“Good for what?” Shaw barked.

Then, she heard the shrieking whistle of a missile above head. She lunged forward and pulled Root down to the ground, covering her with her own body. While Shaw huddled over her, hearing the explosion and hearing men’s bodies being thrown up and through the air, Root felt Sameen cover her.

* * *

It was over in seconds and then, the aftermath. People ran from the sides of the house and down the driveway. Shaw finally pulled Root up to make sure she hadn’t been hit by any debris. In spite of acting as cover, Shaw’s only damage was a dark smudge across her cheek.

“Are you okay?” she asked Root as people screamed past them.

“Yes, thanks to you,” Root said and put her finger across the smudge to wipe it off.

Shaw just stood there, allowing her to do it. “Missile?” she had to ask.

“The machine; just in case,” Root said because that was the other thing she brought to the boat.

Shaw shook her head as Root continued to clean off the dirt. “We are _so_ going to talk about your mission skills.”

“What?” Root asked as Sameen grabbed her hand and they walked away in the midst of the crowd; the only two people not screaming or running.

“You suck at it, Root. You come up with a plan, but you leave out…like…ninety nine percent of the details,” Shaw pointed out.

And in the middle of the yelling, panicked crowd, Root pulled Sameen back to face her. “I’m sorry; you’re right.”

Staring up at her girlfriend, it was easy to see how sincere Root was. “Okay, we’ll work on it,” Shaw decided.

Root was happy that Sameen was so compromising because she understood how it went against everything Shaw was trained to do.

“And your taste in undercover clothes, too, Root,” Shaw added as they made their get-away.

“I like that dress. It shows off some of your best; no, actually, all of your physical assets,” Root pointed out.

“Root, it practically shows off my kidneys, it’s so tight,” Shaw pointed out.

Root might have seen Shaw’s argument about telling her all the details of the plan, but she didn’t see her point about the dress. But she kept staring at it, making a Camp Fire Scout’s best effort to see what Shaw meant.

* * *

As they neared the rented boat for their return trip to their vacation condo, Root had one more thing she wanted to remind Shaw about.

“You also said we need to go over my list of fantasies,” Root all but squealed.

“What? No, that’s not what said,” Shaw pointed out, but it was too late.

One look at her lover’s glazed eyes and she knew she was already working on the list.

The boat docked and the couple got off, only after Sameen harassed the boat owner for the promised snacks. "Cheez-Its?" Really?” she balked. “Fish food,” she complained.

* * *

An hour later, they were back in Ladera, in their private condominium.

“Sharks and explosives,” Shaw noted. “Not bad for a night out.”

“Wait until you see what I’ve got planned for our night in,” Root smiled.

“Root, you have to let me sleep. I require sleep,” Shaw pointed out, but she was standing there in her favorite Yankees t-shirt.

“We can go to bed,” Root promised.

“I said sleep, Root. Sleep,” Shaw balked, as Root pulled her into bed and gave her several reasons why sleep could wait.


	106. Epilogue Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter - no really, I know I've said that before ....but this is it!

The vacation was the perfect antidote for the couple’s stress. They spent days by the pool and on the beach; romantic nights under the stars, when they weren’t fending off sharks and would be hackers.

The data analyzed by the machine confirmed that whoever these people were, they were professionals on the dark web, looking to breach systems to cash in on the rumors of an all-powerful machine. The download that Root managed to perform before they stopped her, proved to be resourceful. The machine was able to trace where the real source of hackers were oversees, even though they moved before anything could be done.

One thing was for sure; the interest in the machine was on the rise.

In spite of that analysis, Root enjoyed her time away with Shaw. They had spent quality time together, furthering their relationship. Root never had a doubt that she and Shaw were meant for each other; but it was gratifying for her to see that Shaw was allowing that knowledge into her own heart more and more.

They went on vacation wondering about the machine's future; but returned with musings about their own. 

* * *

On their last day; Sameen was going to experience something more horrific than shoe shopping. Root’s signature slogan of – “It’ll be fun,” only confirmed for Shaw that it would not be.

“Why can’t we just take the shampoos and bathrobes?” she whined when Root insisted they visit the shops before leaving.

“Do you really want to give Janine your bathrobe?” Root asked, standing there with her hands on her hips to give her girlfriend a minute to think that over.

“I..,” Shaw said looking back at the clothing. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes.

Sameen had to admit, Root was a ball of energy no matter what she was doing. They walked up and down streets, visiting shops, as Root hunted for the perfect gifts for several people. Shaw finally took interest when they found the food selections of rum and hot sauce. She got the largest size bottle of the peppery concoction she could for Fusco. She needed to pay him back for his card that arrived with the champagne.

Hours later, they bade their vacation stay a goodbye and made their way home.

* * *

“I asked Harry to bring Bear to the apartment,” Root said as they made their way up in the elevator in New York.

“Remember, he tends to knock you down when he rushes you,” Shaw was saying as the elevator door opened.

“I’m ready,” Root promised.

It was a toss-up who jumped up initially faster to greet the couple, but this time, Janine actually got there first. There was no mistaking who was knocked down though. Root was prepared for the large canine to jump up; Shaw was completely taken by surprise when Janine rushed to hug her. Shaw used some defensive moves, thinking she could avoid the woman, but tripped over her suitcase and fell.

“Oh, my God, are you okay?” Janine asked, grabbing Shaw off the floor and holding her in her arms. “Did you hit your head?” she asked, holding Sameen so close to her chest, she couldn’t talk.

“OOT!” Shaw called for help, her arms swinging to her Root’s attention. It looked like Root was too busy letting Bear whine and lick her face, but in reality, Root just didn’t have the heart to deny Janine her similar moment. Like the canine who was sharing how hard it had been and how he missed Root, the genius understood that Janine needed to express the same thing to Shaw.

“I feel a bump,” Janine said, rubbing the back of Shaw’s captive head. “ISABELLE!” she yelled and asked the woman to bring ice.

“Imreallyokay,” Shaw tried to say and couldn’t get her footing to get up and away.

“Oh, dear,” Isabelle said as she handed Janine the bag of ice which was promptly, albeit not gently, placed on the crown of Shaw’s head.

“She looks okay,” Root tried, but Janine felt so bad about surprising Shaw, that she insisted on walking her over to the couch.

“Welcome back!” Isabelle said and asked if there was anything special they wanted. Root assured her anything was fine, but Sameen had a list of things she wanted. Most of the requests sounded like steak.

“I’m really okay,” Sameen tried again as she sat on the couch, the assistant kneeling in front of her. Even Bear had stopped jumping and was playing with his souvenir.

As much as Root knew Shaw was annoyed, she could understand the assistant’s unwavering affection for the woman in front of her. Still, she had to do something to help. “Sameen bought you this,” Root said, whipping the bag out of her pocketbook where all the souvenirs were. Janine fell back on her heels, as she accepted the gift. “You didn’t have to…,” she said as she accepted the bag.

“No, Root insisted,” Shaw said and Root cast her a look. “You did!”

“It’s beautiful,” Janine said of the colorful mandras print dress. “I’ll treasure it, always.”

As soon as Janine sat back, Shaw took this as her opportunity to escape. She pulled her legs up and would have done a back flip over the back of the couch, but Root simply put her hand out and touched her leg to let her know she wasn’t in any real danger.

“Says you,” Shaw whispered to Root because she wasn’t going to be the one smothered in a bear hug. Sameen was busy admonishing Root when Janine leaped forward to hug Shaw again. “See?” Shaw said. One look at Root and Sameen understood she should smile and endure it. “Your welcome,” Sameen read from Root’s eyes and even patted the assistant’s back awkwardly.

“I will let you two relax now,” Janine offered and stood up to take her leave. Root raised her left eyebrow for Shaw to walk her to the elevator.

“It’s a good thing I read _Root_ ,” Shaw said, getting up and shoving her hands in her pockets.

Finally remembering her manners, Janine turned to face her boss. “I hope you had a great time.”

“We did,” Shaw smiled and appreciated just how devoted her assistant was.

“Good, I’m glad,” Janine said as they waited for the elevator. “Will you… uhm… be back at work tomorrow?”

The question confused Shaw because she couldn’t see the forest for the trees on this issue. “Yeah, sure,” she said and the doors opened.  
Janine was about to step into the elevator when she had to turn back. She lunged again at Shaw and hugged her. “I really missed you,” she blurted out and ran back into the elevator.

Now, Root had taught Sameen a lot about social graces; to say you’re welcomed, when people thanked her; to say thank you, when people complimented her. Sameen would have sworn she taught her that the appropriate response in this instance was to say - “I missed you, too,” because that’s what she uttered as the door closed. But when she looked back and Root and saw her expression, she was confused. “What?”

“That…was…sweet,” Root noted cautiously.

“What? You told me…you said I should be polite to people,” Shaw balked.

“You just told her you missed her,” Root tried to gently point out.

“Yeah, so?” Shaw asked.

“That was sweet,” Root smiled and pulled Sameen to sit down again.

Shaw had no idea what affect she had on the woman, especially when she said things like she missed her.

“Her feet won’t touch the ground,” Root pointed out.

Slowly, very slowly, it dawned on Shaw. “Well, it’s okay. I mean, how much worse could she be?” Shaw laughed.

Oh, Shaw…you have no idea.

* * *

When the couple arrived at work the next day, Shaw was looking forward to easing back into work.

“Welcome back, Shaw,” John said.

“Thanks,” Shaw said and handed John a bottle of rum.

“Thanks,” Reese said of the gift. “Heard there was an explosion on an island down there.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said because that was her way of telling John that – yes, there were involved, and yes, they were okay, and yes, the mission was successful. “Sharks, too.”

“Sharks?” he asked concerned.

‘Yep,” Shaw answered. “We’re fine.”

“Okay, good,” he said, walking away.

There were days when Shaw wished everyone conversed the way Reese did.

“What did you get me?” Fusco said, coming into her cubicle as John left.

“Nice to see you, too,” Shaw retorted.

“Yeah, what did you get me?” Fusco asked, putting two coffees down on the desk.

“Actually,” Shaw said, thinking she would teach him a lesson. She reached into her bag and slowly ripped off the label on the bottle of hot sauce. On that label was the warning of just how spicy the liquid fire was. “I bought you back some island sauce.” She smiled as she handed it to him. “Mild,” she lied.

“Oh, I really love this on eggs,” Fusco said and thanked her. “Did you get the champagne?” he had to ask.

“Yes, can’t thank you enough,” Shaw smiled sardonically. She meant for sticking his nose into her business.

“Well, I know you probably didn’t like the sentiment in the card, Shaw, but it’s true. You ain’t getting any younger,” he couldn’t help but relish in reminding her.

“You know I carry a gun, right?” Shaw asked, just to be clear. “And besides, what makes you think you’d be my best man?”

Fusco had given this very topic a lot of thought. “Because the Best Man makes a speech and there’s no way Reese is going to get up and give a talk.”

“Get out of here,” Shaw balked and tried to get her friend to switch topics.

I’ve been thinking about it, and Root’s your only chance. Who else is ever going to put up with you? No, seriously, Shaw. Root’s the only one, like in this _entire_ universe,” Fusco said with conviction. “You gotta propose.”

“Don’t tell me what I have to do,” Shaw warned him, but he was unfazed by her threats.

“I’ll leave you with this one thought,” Fusco said, again because he always wanted what was best for his best friend. “You’re crazy about her and she feels the same way about you. Mostly you two are just crazy, but you are about each other, too. Everyone can see it.”

Sameen sat there expressionless, staring straight ahead at the wall as her friend talked. “And you know the gun is loaded, right?” was all she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fusco said of her idle threats. “I’ll see you around, Shaw.”

* * *

Sameen rolled her eyes at what a pain this man could be. But Fusco had touched on something that Shaw had already been thinking about on vacation. It wasn’t in the quiet moments as they lay on the beach or even when they slept in each other’s arms. It was when Shaw saw the shark coming near Root and when the house exploded behind them and debris was falling everywhere. Shaw had learned a great deal about her feelings since working for Root, but it was her instincts that moved her to protect Root and to make sure she was safe.

Her feelings told her that she wouldn’t want anything to happen to Root because she needed and wanted her in her life.

So, maybe it was time to start thinking about their future; not just as partners and lovers, but as a married couple. Sameen put her head down and laughed softly at the thought of Root running through the house with kids following her. “That would be crazy making,” she said out loud, but her heart beat faster at the thought. Shaw put her feet up on her desk and pushed back in her chair. “What would that life be like?” she allowed herself to wonder.

But her _reverie_ was short lived.

The security alarms went off and the voice over the system told them this was Code Red; which in BEAR terms meant… Root was in danger.

Shaw shot up from her chair and rushed to the stairwell, where she ascended the steps, two at a time to get to Root’s floor. John was right behind her as they approached Root’s office.

The indestructible window on Root’s office was blown in and glass shards were all over. The helicopter that orchestrated the attack was whirling outside, as if waiting to make sure they could see Root inside – screaming. Shaw rushed through the debris to the outside area and yelled to Root. She took out her gun and aimed, but knew she couldn’t shoot.

A masked man took out his phone and pointed to it – for Shaw to look at hers.

‘ _Don’t worry, Ms. Shaw; we won’t kill her._ ’ …the text read. ‘ _Unless our demands are not met. Wait for our next text_.’

Shaw looked and stared at Root, whose hands were pressed on the window.

Shaw had never seen her look so terrified.

What had they done to scare her like that?

Simple – they had threatened to shoot Sameen. Once they issued that warning, Root told them she would go with them.

“You’re going to regret taking me,” Root warned the masked kidnappers.

“Miss Groves,” the leader said to her slowly. “We found the weakness in your machine, in your office windows, and now in you. I think we can guarantee your cooperation and Ms. Shaw’s. We know both of your weaknesses.”

* * *

Shaw scrambled to get information on the helicopter, but their escape path was well prepared. The chopper was found on the east side heliport, where a boat picked them up.

Whoever this was, were meticulous in their planning.

John worked with Martine and the rest of the team to gather whatever information they could on the break-in.

Fusco used the NYPD resources on the water and in the air to see if there were any boats that were unregistered.

But Root’s captors were smart and they had been planning her kidnapping for some time now. And so far, things had gone their way. Including, Root finding the program they wanted her to find in Mustique.

* * *

Shaw paced her arsenal room at home, checking and loading each gun. Her mind raced to figure out what she could do while she waited for their demands. It took her awhile, but she remembered she had access to the machine.

She ran to Root’s office and opened the chat box that Root used to communicate with the machine.

“Where is she?” Shaw said.

“ _I’m sorry, Sameen. I have failed Root._ ”

“Don’t you fucking tell me you failed her. Nobody is failing Root. Where is she?” she yelled and pounded the desk with her fists.

" _The program you found in Mustique had a virus and I didn’t detect it. They have control of me now, Sameen. They want Root to tell them where I am and if she doesn’t, they will harm her.”_

“You listen to me you complex strings of zeros and ones; I am going after her and I will kill anyone in my way. You better start processing that information. You let them know that there’s going to be a four alarm fire in an oil refinery when I get there. TELL THEM THAT!!!!” Shaw shouted and threw the keyboard across the room out of sheer anger.

After a few seconds and to no one’s surprise – a text appeared on the screen.

 _‘Message received_.’

Whoever was able to see the communication, had read that message.

Now, Shaw had to hope they said it in front of Root – because it was code for Root to know, Shaw was coming for her.

* * *

 

The End .........................................................

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took this journey. I do appreciate your readership, feedback, questions and suggestions. One only has to mention something and I try to work it into the story. This concludes Part II and I hope there is a Part III soon because I will miss these characters, this writing and especially all of you. Cheers.


End file.
